The Road Not Taken: Chapter Six
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Chapter Five
The Road Not Taken: Chapter Six
Harry had always been an early riser. Aunt Petunia had demanded that he make breakfast every morning - earning his keep, as she liked to call it, so Harry had grown used to waking up before the rest of the house.
Harry eased out of bed, a bundle of Dudley’s old clothes under his arm and headed for the bathrooms to get ready for his first day of classes. The first year’s dormitory was exactly as he remembered it: five beds to a room, each a four-poster canopy, with thick maroon and gold curtains that could be pulled closed. Harry had Neville, Ron, Seamus and Dean as his roommates.
Harry had been waiting for his head to start throbbing all the while they had been settling into their room. But Ron had been busy chatting up Seamus, asking the Irish boy all about the muggle technology he had grown up with. Harry had had a long, cold moment when he’d spotted Scabbers in amongst Ron’s things. He knew, intellectually, there was little he could do about the rat at the moment. That did little to still the deep desire to blast the bloody animagus to kingdom come.
The boys, aside from Neville, had been a little distant with Harry - he wasn’t sure if it was because of his name or something else.
So, Harry had been blessed with no pain that evening, but also for no way to make friends with Ron.
Is this another price I have to pay? Harry thought as he settled in front of the banked hearth. The dormitory bathrooms were a madhouse in the mornings, another reason to get up early. Ron had never managed it, always trying to sleep until the last minute and then rush to breakfast and class.
Harry let out a soft sigh. He would have to find a way to make friends with Ron, later. He had more pressing matters to deal with, at the moment.
Harry closed his eyes and tried to even out his breathing. He dove deep, to where the memories of his past, the future, were buried. They were foggier, to his dismay. But he could still pick out specific memories, if he concentrated. As long as he did not try to force them into focus, then he could experience them without pain.
Taking a mental step back from the imaginary hallway that held all the doors to his memory - or at least that part of his memory, he amended - Harry looked around. There were several new hallways he had never seen before, each filled with the memories of his new life. They seemed to be split down the magical, Muggle divide. All his memories of his life with the Dursleys were down one corridor. Hogwarts, Diagon Alley and all the rest were down another.
Harry had never read of something like this happening before. Then again, there weren’t any accounts of successful time travel either, or at least to his knowledge. He would have to be careful and go slow. The last thing he needed was to muck it all up before he could even get started.
Which led him back to the hazy memories. If he tried, perhaps he could camouflage them? One of the books on Occlumency had spoken about misdirection being one of the easiest forms of defense.
Harry eyed the long hallway. He squinted at the top arch, imaging a plaque that read Dreams on it. It flickered in and out of existence and then appeared, burnished silver on an obsidian background. Harry frowned at it - that hadn’t been his mental image, and then shrugged. The piece of Voldemort’s soul had been shoved down that hallway, behind a crimson door, with locks bolted from top to bottom. Harry wasn’t about to let Voldemort influence him at all this time around, but he didn’t think it was Voldemort who was mucking about with his imaginary interior design. Probably just my subconscious.
“Harry?”
His eyes flew open as he gasped. Hermione stood in front of him, a concerned expression on her face. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine!” Harry put a hand over his heart. “You scared me.”
“I was calling your name for a while.”
“Oh,” he ducked his head. “Sorry. I was…thinking.”
She dropped down onto the seat next to him. “About what?”
He shrugged. “Lots of things,” he evaded. “We get our schedules today, right?”
Her expression went from concerned to elated. “Yes! I can’t wait. Did you look over your books like I told you?”
Harry snorted. “No.”
“But you should have! We have so much to learn. Come on, get your books and we’ll -”
“It’s our first day, Hermione,” Harry had to laugh. “How about we wait until we see what our schedules are like and then we’ll study.”
Her expression fell. “Oh. Oh, I…sorry. I’m always,” she shrugged, her face going red.
“I don’t mind,” Harry was quick to say. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Not again. “But we should wait until we know which classes we have on which days, you know?”
“Would you,” Hermione twisted her hands in her lap. “Would you like to be homework partners? People never wanted to be part of my study groups back home, but I’m sure the wizarding world is different, since there is so much to learn and it’s all pertinent to our lives and -”
“I’d like that,” Harry said.
She beamed at him. “Really? Maybe we can get all of the other first years to join and it could be like a club.”
Harry ducked his head to hide his smile. “Yeah, let’s try. I’m sure Neville would join.”
Hermione clapped her hands together. “I’ve got to make plans! A schedule, maybe a roster? If we made it an official club, do you think we’d have to ask permission from Professor McGonagall?”
“Let’s wait until tonight and announce it. See who’s interested,” Harry stretched, cracking the vertebra in his neck. “I’m starving. Do you think they’ll have breakfast ready yet?”
“I don’t know. Let’s go see if we can find the Great Hall,” Hermione jumped to her feet.
“Let me go get Neville,” Harry said. He escaped before Hermione could protest. He didn’t want Neville waking up to find Harry gone. It felt…wrong. Neville was his first friend, this time around. Harry had vowed to be a better friend to everyone with this second chance. He meant to keep that vow.
~*~
“There are a hundred and forty-two staircases,” Hermione said. “I read about it in Hogwarts, A History. Pass the bacon, please.”
Neville handed the platter over with wide, glazed eyes. “A hundred and forty-two?”
“They don’t always lead to the same place, either!” Hermione’s energetic nod made her halo of bushy hair sway. “Some only operate on Fridays, some even have missing steps.”
“That sounds…dangerous.”
“Many of the doors are also charmed to be animate. We’ll need to figure out how to open each one and some even need passwords,” Hermione said the word with relish. “It’s all so fabulous! We have so much to learn!”
Neville made vague agreeing noises, while Harry chuckled into his oatmeal.
Harry had let Hermione lead the way to the Great Hall, stepping in only once when they were about to detour into the restricted hallway. He didn’t want to appear like he already knew the castle - which he did, and in far more detail then he would like to let on. On their way they had passed a scowling Filch who was holding an animated conversation with Mrs. Norris about torturing the first years in his dungeon - a conversation that had caused Neville to stumble and Harry to catch him before the other boy could fall.
“I didn’t think they were allowed to do that,” Hermione had said, a touch pale.
Professor McGonagall had handed them their schedules as they sat. There were a few other, older Gryffindors up and at the table. Hufflepuff’s area was empty, while the Ravenclaw table was full of students eating and studying at the same time.
“They’re studying,” Hermione had pointed out.
“They’re Ravenclaws,” Neville had shrugged. “It’s what they do.”
“But…”
“They’re also older than us,” Harry had stepped in. “They already know what to expect.”
That had silenced Hermione for a minute. Barely.
“We have a study period, first thing,” Hermione continued, after taking the bacon. “Then Charms with Professor Flitwick. Then lunch. After lunch we have Herbology with Professor Sprout, in the greenhouses. Greenhouses? Oh, we’ll have to find those after lunch. I wish I had a map!”
Harry’s spoon hitched on its way to his mouth. The Marauder’s Map, he blinked into the distance. If he wasn’t friends with Ron, then how would he get to know the twins and thus get the Map when he needed it most?
Bloody Ollivander, Harry frowned at his oatmeal. Bloody time paradoxes.
“We have our schedule,” Hermione was saying, with a pointed glance at Harry. “Now can we go get our books and review?”
Harry had to laugh, both at the typical Hermione response and at Neville’s dismayed expression.
They passed a knot of Slytherins as they left the Great Hall. Harry saw Draco in the crowd. He waved before he thought about it - and the way Draco’s expression lit up was amazing.
I wasn’t thinking, Harry cast a look over his shoulder as they left the hall. I keep thinking it’s the Draco I got to know as an adult, not the prat he is, now. But…Harry chewed on his lip, following the others back to the dormitory. But what if, this time, I can get him to think for himself? Could I save him, too? Not, he snorted, that the Malfoys ever needed to be saved, except from their own ambition, but…
He shoved the thought aside to ponder later.
Hermione bullied them to get their books and meet her in the common room. Harry just smiled and went to get his - Hermione had become very close to Harry, especially after they had both married into the Weasley clan. Harry had not appreciated her as he should have when they were younger, he acknowledged. Without her help, he and Ron never would have found the Horcruxes, let alone survive their quest. Hermione was a practical, brilliant witch, if a little bossy at times, he grinned. But her foresight had saved them more than once. He meant to be a better friend to her, as well. He wouldn’t take so much for granted, either, this time around.
He had been lucky, Harry mused later, sitting through their first magic lesson. Flitwick had still squeaked and toppled over on his stack of books when he’d read off Harry’s name. They had the class with the Hufflepuff first years, whom had all been staring at Harry from the moment he’d sat down, Hermione on one side, Neville on the other.
Yes, he had been lucky, he mused as Flitwick started his first year’s speech. Harry had coasted along on Hermione’s coattails for a lot of the time, only putting in effort at Defense Against the Dark Arts because it had interested him. Later on, his lackadaisical attitude towards study in school had come to bit him on the rear - Aurors had to be well versed in all areas of magic, not just hexes and curses. Harry had almost failed Auror school because of the gaps in his knowledge. Again, Hermione had been the one to save his hide, sending him a detailed, rush study plan from her make-up year at Hogwarts. Harry had opted straight for the Auror program, rather than take retake his final year at Hogwarts. It hadn’t been the best decision of his life, but he’d gotten through it, barely. Again with Hermione’s help.
This time, he was going to study. This time he would pay attention and do well in class - or at least try, like in Potions. He wrinkled his nose at the thought. Snape would still hate him, but maybe if Harry showed a little aptitude, he wouldn’t be as nasty.
And pigs would fly without the aid of magic, he ducked his head to hide his grin.
After Charms came lunch and then Herbology. For the first time Harry noted Hermione looking a little lost, while Neville was the one that was at ease. Was Hermione always this nervous about Herbology? Harry scratched out a note on his parchment as Professor Sprout gave them their reading assignment. I never thought Hermione was nervous about any subject.
“Should we make the announcement about the study club now or after supper?” Hermione asked as they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower.
“After supper. Everyone will be back in the dormitory then,” Harry said.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, though?” Neville asked. “I mean, a study club would have a lot of members, yeah? How would we all study, if we’re all talking to each other, or were you thinking about it like we’d run a - a class lesson or something?”
Hermione’s face went pink. “I - no,” she blinked fast. “But, um…”
“We’d probably break up into groups,” Harry offered. “So we wouldn’t get distracted? And if one group was confused about a topic, they could ask others.”
“Yes!” Hermione brightened. “That’s perfect. We’ll do that.”
“You’ll be in my group, though, right? The two of you?” Neville glanced between them.
“Sure,” Harry shrugged.
“You - you’d want to be in my group?” Hermione’s eyes were wide.
“Oh, yes,” Neville said. “I wouldn’t have had a clue of what to do in Charms if you hadn’t gone over the first chapter with me.”
The tip of Hermione’s nose went pink.
But Hermione’s grandiose ideas of a study club for the first years died a fiery death that evening.
Ron was the first to start laughing. “Why’d we want to join a study club?” He snickered. “Go on with ya. You should have been sorted into Ravenclaw,” Ron rolled his eyes, making a show out of it. Dean snickered and started to heckle the idea as well.
“Hey, now. There’s no need for that,” Neville jumped up before Harry could intervene. Hermione’s face was beet red and as she turned away from a honking Ron, Harry could see the tears in her eyes. “Hermione’s idea is a good one. We’d do better in class and then we’d have a chance at winning the House Cup!”
“We don’t need some bookworm to help us win the House Cup!” Ron tugged at Dean’s arm. “Come on. I’m all schooled out. Let’s play Exploding Snap!”
“But,” Neville protested. The rest of the first years lingered for a moment and then dispersed.
Harry bit down on his lip, risking a glance at Hermione. She was wiping her face with the sleeve of her robe and muttering to herself. Neville turned to him, expression miserable, and shrugged.
“Well,” Harry kept his voice quiet as he stepped up to her side. “We don’t need a club to have a study group, do we?”
“W-what?” Hermione sniffed. Her nose was bright red.
“We can still study together, right?” Harry herded them to an unclaimed area of the common room. A table with a few lamps seemed like the perfect place to study.
“B-but,” Hermione gulped down a breath of air. “You - you’d still want to?”
“Of course we do,” Harry glanced at Neville. The boy nodded vigorously. Hermione wiped at her face again.
“Even though,” she bit her lip and looked over at Ron and Dean, who were still laughing and pointing their way.
“Yes,” Harry said. “Even though.”
Hermione blinked fast a few times. “I - I need to get my books.”
“You and Neville go. I’ll hold the table until you get back.”
Hermione nodded and hurried off for the girl’s dormitory. Neville gave Harry a relieved smile and went to get his own books.
“Oi, you’re not really joining that stupid study group, are you?” Ron called. He got up and ambled a few steps towards Harry. “You’re the Boy-Who-Lived! You don’t need to study, mate,” Ron’s easy smile was the one Harry remembered. Ron - Ron was a good man, Harry reminded himself. A Gryffindor through and through, not like Harry’s Gryffindor with a side of Slytherin.
“Yes, I do,” Harry met the incredulous stare. “How else am I to do well? I’ve not grown up in the wizarding world. Besides,” he caught sight of Hermione coming down the stairs. “It’s a good idea if we all got good marks. It’ll help the House in the long run.”
Ron made a face as if he’d sucked on a lemon. “Not you, too. I thought you’d be a real Gryffindor, not a Ravenclaw.”
“I am a true Gryffindor,” Harry couldn’t help the dry tone. “I got sorted here, didn’t I?”
“Took the Hat long enough,” Ron muttered, but turned away with another eye roll as Hermione marched up to Harry’s side, eyes narrowed in a fierce glare.
“Any problems?” she asked, back straight and stiff.
“None,” Harry gave her a lopsided smile. “Hold the table. I’ll get my things.” He left before she could answer.
~*~
Later, safe in his bed with the curtains drawn, Harry folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the shadowed ceiling.
Was Ron always that…mean? He stifled a sigh. Ron, looking back, had always been…opinionated. He judged first and held a grudge as good as Snape. Had they become friends at first because Ron hadn’t known who he was? But, no, Harry frowned. Ron had found out pretty fast who Harry was on the train. He hadn’t seemed too awed, then.
But, Harry had to admit, Ron did have a jealous streak in him when it came to Harry’s fame. It burned a little to remember some of the gigantic rows they’d had in the past about it. But Harry had clung to Ron, he realized. Ron had been his very first friend, after Dudley had kept everyone else away. Harry would have done anything to keep that friendship. He’d even sided with Ron, that other first week of school, when Hermione had tried to warn them about sneaking out for the duel.
Merlin, Harry choked back a laugh. That duel. He’d completely forgotten about it. Draco had been such a prat, he grinned up at the ceiling. He wondered how it was going to play out this time around.
His smile faded when he remembered that still left him at odds with Ron. Harry sighed and curled up on his side under the covers. He’d find a way to become Ron’s friend again. He winced as a twinge of pain pinged through his head. Maybe not the same way, he amended, but they could become friends again.
Right?
Chapter Seven
Chapter Five
The Road Not Taken: Chapter Six
Harry had always been an early riser. Aunt Petunia had demanded that he make breakfast every morning - earning his keep, as she liked to call it, so Harry had grown used to waking up before the rest of the house.
Harry eased out of bed, a bundle of Dudley’s old clothes under his arm and headed for the bathrooms to get ready for his first day of classes. The first year’s dormitory was exactly as he remembered it: five beds to a room, each a four-poster canopy, with thick maroon and gold curtains that could be pulled closed. Harry had Neville, Ron, Seamus and Dean as his roommates.
Harry had been waiting for his head to start throbbing all the while they had been settling into their room. But Ron had been busy chatting up Seamus, asking the Irish boy all about the muggle technology he had grown up with. Harry had had a long, cold moment when he’d spotted Scabbers in amongst Ron’s things. He knew, intellectually, there was little he could do about the rat at the moment. That did little to still the deep desire to blast the bloody animagus to kingdom come.
The boys, aside from Neville, had been a little distant with Harry - he wasn’t sure if it was because of his name or something else.
So, Harry had been blessed with no pain that evening, but also for no way to make friends with Ron.
Is this another price I have to pay? Harry thought as he settled in front of the banked hearth. The dormitory bathrooms were a madhouse in the mornings, another reason to get up early. Ron had never managed it, always trying to sleep until the last minute and then rush to breakfast and class.
Harry let out a soft sigh. He would have to find a way to make friends with Ron, later. He had more pressing matters to deal with, at the moment.
Harry closed his eyes and tried to even out his breathing. He dove deep, to where the memories of his past, the future, were buried. They were foggier, to his dismay. But he could still pick out specific memories, if he concentrated. As long as he did not try to force them into focus, then he could experience them without pain.
Taking a mental step back from the imaginary hallway that held all the doors to his memory - or at least that part of his memory, he amended - Harry looked around. There were several new hallways he had never seen before, each filled with the memories of his new life. They seemed to be split down the magical, Muggle divide. All his memories of his life with the Dursleys were down one corridor. Hogwarts, Diagon Alley and all the rest were down another.
Harry had never read of something like this happening before. Then again, there weren’t any accounts of successful time travel either, or at least to his knowledge. He would have to be careful and go slow. The last thing he needed was to muck it all up before he could even get started.
Which led him back to the hazy memories. If he tried, perhaps he could camouflage them? One of the books on Occlumency had spoken about misdirection being one of the easiest forms of defense.
Harry eyed the long hallway. He squinted at the top arch, imaging a plaque that read Dreams on it. It flickered in and out of existence and then appeared, burnished silver on an obsidian background. Harry frowned at it - that hadn’t been his mental image, and then shrugged. The piece of Voldemort’s soul had been shoved down that hallway, behind a crimson door, with locks bolted from top to bottom. Harry wasn’t about to let Voldemort influence him at all this time around, but he didn’t think it was Voldemort who was mucking about with his imaginary interior design. Probably just my subconscious.
“Harry?”
His eyes flew open as he gasped. Hermione stood in front of him, a concerned expression on her face. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine!” Harry put a hand over his heart. “You scared me.”
“I was calling your name for a while.”
“Oh,” he ducked his head. “Sorry. I was…thinking.”
She dropped down onto the seat next to him. “About what?”
He shrugged. “Lots of things,” he evaded. “We get our schedules today, right?”
Her expression went from concerned to elated. “Yes! I can’t wait. Did you look over your books like I told you?”
Harry snorted. “No.”
“But you should have! We have so much to learn. Come on, get your books and we’ll -”
“It’s our first day, Hermione,” Harry had to laugh. “How about we wait until we see what our schedules are like and then we’ll study.”
Her expression fell. “Oh. Oh, I…sorry. I’m always,” she shrugged, her face going red.
“I don’t mind,” Harry was quick to say. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Not again. “But we should wait until we know which classes we have on which days, you know?”
“Would you,” Hermione twisted her hands in her lap. “Would you like to be homework partners? People never wanted to be part of my study groups back home, but I’m sure the wizarding world is different, since there is so much to learn and it’s all pertinent to our lives and -”
“I’d like that,” Harry said.
She beamed at him. “Really? Maybe we can get all of the other first years to join and it could be like a club.”
Harry ducked his head to hide his smile. “Yeah, let’s try. I’m sure Neville would join.”
Hermione clapped her hands together. “I’ve got to make plans! A schedule, maybe a roster? If we made it an official club, do you think we’d have to ask permission from Professor McGonagall?”
“Let’s wait until tonight and announce it. See who’s interested,” Harry stretched, cracking the vertebra in his neck. “I’m starving. Do you think they’ll have breakfast ready yet?”
“I don’t know. Let’s go see if we can find the Great Hall,” Hermione jumped to her feet.
“Let me go get Neville,” Harry said. He escaped before Hermione could protest. He didn’t want Neville waking up to find Harry gone. It felt…wrong. Neville was his first friend, this time around. Harry had vowed to be a better friend to everyone with this second chance. He meant to keep that vow.
~*~
“There are a hundred and forty-two staircases,” Hermione said. “I read about it in Hogwarts, A History. Pass the bacon, please.”
Neville handed the platter over with wide, glazed eyes. “A hundred and forty-two?”
“They don’t always lead to the same place, either!” Hermione’s energetic nod made her halo of bushy hair sway. “Some only operate on Fridays, some even have missing steps.”
“That sounds…dangerous.”
“Many of the doors are also charmed to be animate. We’ll need to figure out how to open each one and some even need passwords,” Hermione said the word with relish. “It’s all so fabulous! We have so much to learn!”
Neville made vague agreeing noises, while Harry chuckled into his oatmeal.
Harry had let Hermione lead the way to the Great Hall, stepping in only once when they were about to detour into the restricted hallway. He didn’t want to appear like he already knew the castle - which he did, and in far more detail then he would like to let on. On their way they had passed a scowling Filch who was holding an animated conversation with Mrs. Norris about torturing the first years in his dungeon - a conversation that had caused Neville to stumble and Harry to catch him before the other boy could fall.
“I didn’t think they were allowed to do that,” Hermione had said, a touch pale.
Professor McGonagall had handed them their schedules as they sat. There were a few other, older Gryffindors up and at the table. Hufflepuff’s area was empty, while the Ravenclaw table was full of students eating and studying at the same time.
“They’re studying,” Hermione had pointed out.
“They’re Ravenclaws,” Neville had shrugged. “It’s what they do.”
“But…”
“They’re also older than us,” Harry had stepped in. “They already know what to expect.”
That had silenced Hermione for a minute. Barely.
“We have a study period, first thing,” Hermione continued, after taking the bacon. “Then Charms with Professor Flitwick. Then lunch. After lunch we have Herbology with Professor Sprout, in the greenhouses. Greenhouses? Oh, we’ll have to find those after lunch. I wish I had a map!”
Harry’s spoon hitched on its way to his mouth. The Marauder’s Map, he blinked into the distance. If he wasn’t friends with Ron, then how would he get to know the twins and thus get the Map when he needed it most?
Bloody Ollivander, Harry frowned at his oatmeal. Bloody time paradoxes.
“We have our schedule,” Hermione was saying, with a pointed glance at Harry. “Now can we go get our books and review?”
Harry had to laugh, both at the typical Hermione response and at Neville’s dismayed expression.
They passed a knot of Slytherins as they left the Great Hall. Harry saw Draco in the crowd. He waved before he thought about it - and the way Draco’s expression lit up was amazing.
I wasn’t thinking, Harry cast a look over his shoulder as they left the hall. I keep thinking it’s the Draco I got to know as an adult, not the prat he is, now. But…Harry chewed on his lip, following the others back to the dormitory. But what if, this time, I can get him to think for himself? Could I save him, too? Not, he snorted, that the Malfoys ever needed to be saved, except from their own ambition, but…
He shoved the thought aside to ponder later.
Hermione bullied them to get their books and meet her in the common room. Harry just smiled and went to get his - Hermione had become very close to Harry, especially after they had both married into the Weasley clan. Harry had not appreciated her as he should have when they were younger, he acknowledged. Without her help, he and Ron never would have found the Horcruxes, let alone survive their quest. Hermione was a practical, brilliant witch, if a little bossy at times, he grinned. But her foresight had saved them more than once. He meant to be a better friend to her, as well. He wouldn’t take so much for granted, either, this time around.
He had been lucky, Harry mused later, sitting through their first magic lesson. Flitwick had still squeaked and toppled over on his stack of books when he’d read off Harry’s name. They had the class with the Hufflepuff first years, whom had all been staring at Harry from the moment he’d sat down, Hermione on one side, Neville on the other.
Yes, he had been lucky, he mused as Flitwick started his first year’s speech. Harry had coasted along on Hermione’s coattails for a lot of the time, only putting in effort at Defense Against the Dark Arts because it had interested him. Later on, his lackadaisical attitude towards study in school had come to bit him on the rear - Aurors had to be well versed in all areas of magic, not just hexes and curses. Harry had almost failed Auror school because of the gaps in his knowledge. Again, Hermione had been the one to save his hide, sending him a detailed, rush study plan from her make-up year at Hogwarts. Harry had opted straight for the Auror program, rather than take retake his final year at Hogwarts. It hadn’t been the best decision of his life, but he’d gotten through it, barely. Again with Hermione’s help.
This time, he was going to study. This time he would pay attention and do well in class - or at least try, like in Potions. He wrinkled his nose at the thought. Snape would still hate him, but maybe if Harry showed a little aptitude, he wouldn’t be as nasty.
And pigs would fly without the aid of magic, he ducked his head to hide his grin.
After Charms came lunch and then Herbology. For the first time Harry noted Hermione looking a little lost, while Neville was the one that was at ease. Was Hermione always this nervous about Herbology? Harry scratched out a note on his parchment as Professor Sprout gave them their reading assignment. I never thought Hermione was nervous about any subject.
“Should we make the announcement about the study club now or after supper?” Hermione asked as they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower.
“After supper. Everyone will be back in the dormitory then,” Harry said.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, though?” Neville asked. “I mean, a study club would have a lot of members, yeah? How would we all study, if we’re all talking to each other, or were you thinking about it like we’d run a - a class lesson or something?”
Hermione’s face went pink. “I - no,” she blinked fast. “But, um…”
“We’d probably break up into groups,” Harry offered. “So we wouldn’t get distracted? And if one group was confused about a topic, they could ask others.”
“Yes!” Hermione brightened. “That’s perfect. We’ll do that.”
“You’ll be in my group, though, right? The two of you?” Neville glanced between them.
“Sure,” Harry shrugged.
“You - you’d want to be in my group?” Hermione’s eyes were wide.
“Oh, yes,” Neville said. “I wouldn’t have had a clue of what to do in Charms if you hadn’t gone over the first chapter with me.”
The tip of Hermione’s nose went pink.
But Hermione’s grandiose ideas of a study club for the first years died a fiery death that evening.
Ron was the first to start laughing. “Why’d we want to join a study club?” He snickered. “Go on with ya. You should have been sorted into Ravenclaw,” Ron rolled his eyes, making a show out of it. Dean snickered and started to heckle the idea as well.
“Hey, now. There’s no need for that,” Neville jumped up before Harry could intervene. Hermione’s face was beet red and as she turned away from a honking Ron, Harry could see the tears in her eyes. “Hermione’s idea is a good one. We’d do better in class and then we’d have a chance at winning the House Cup!”
“We don’t need some bookworm to help us win the House Cup!” Ron tugged at Dean’s arm. “Come on. I’m all schooled out. Let’s play Exploding Snap!”
“But,” Neville protested. The rest of the first years lingered for a moment and then dispersed.
Harry bit down on his lip, risking a glance at Hermione. She was wiping her face with the sleeve of her robe and muttering to herself. Neville turned to him, expression miserable, and shrugged.
“Well,” Harry kept his voice quiet as he stepped up to her side. “We don’t need a club to have a study group, do we?”
“W-what?” Hermione sniffed. Her nose was bright red.
“We can still study together, right?” Harry herded them to an unclaimed area of the common room. A table with a few lamps seemed like the perfect place to study.
“B-but,” Hermione gulped down a breath of air. “You - you’d still want to?”
“Of course we do,” Harry glanced at Neville. The boy nodded vigorously. Hermione wiped at her face again.
“Even though,” she bit her lip and looked over at Ron and Dean, who were still laughing and pointing their way.
“Yes,” Harry said. “Even though.”
Hermione blinked fast a few times. “I - I need to get my books.”
“You and Neville go. I’ll hold the table until you get back.”
Hermione nodded and hurried off for the girl’s dormitory. Neville gave Harry a relieved smile and went to get his own books.
“Oi, you’re not really joining that stupid study group, are you?” Ron called. He got up and ambled a few steps towards Harry. “You’re the Boy-Who-Lived! You don’t need to study, mate,” Ron’s easy smile was the one Harry remembered. Ron - Ron was a good man, Harry reminded himself. A Gryffindor through and through, not like Harry’s Gryffindor with a side of Slytherin.
“Yes, I do,” Harry met the incredulous stare. “How else am I to do well? I’ve not grown up in the wizarding world. Besides,” he caught sight of Hermione coming down the stairs. “It’s a good idea if we all got good marks. It’ll help the House in the long run.”
Ron made a face as if he’d sucked on a lemon. “Not you, too. I thought you’d be a real Gryffindor, not a Ravenclaw.”
“I am a true Gryffindor,” Harry couldn’t help the dry tone. “I got sorted here, didn’t I?”
“Took the Hat long enough,” Ron muttered, but turned away with another eye roll as Hermione marched up to Harry’s side, eyes narrowed in a fierce glare.
“Any problems?” she asked, back straight and stiff.
“None,” Harry gave her a lopsided smile. “Hold the table. I’ll get my things.” He left before she could answer.
~*~
Later, safe in his bed with the curtains drawn, Harry folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the shadowed ceiling.
Was Ron always that…mean? He stifled a sigh. Ron, looking back, had always been…opinionated. He judged first and held a grudge as good as Snape. Had they become friends at first because Ron hadn’t known who he was? But, no, Harry frowned. Ron had found out pretty fast who Harry was on the train. He hadn’t seemed too awed, then.
But, Harry had to admit, Ron did have a jealous streak in him when it came to Harry’s fame. It burned a little to remember some of the gigantic rows they’d had in the past about it. But Harry had clung to Ron, he realized. Ron had been his very first friend, after Dudley had kept everyone else away. Harry would have done anything to keep that friendship. He’d even sided with Ron, that other first week of school, when Hermione had tried to warn them about sneaking out for the duel.
Merlin, Harry choked back a laugh. That duel. He’d completely forgotten about it. Draco had been such a prat, he grinned up at the ceiling. He wondered how it was going to play out this time around.
His smile faded when he remembered that still left him at odds with Ron. Harry sighed and curled up on his side under the covers. He’d find a way to become Ron’s friend again. He winced as a twinge of pain pinged through his head. Maybe not the same way, he amended, but they could become friends again.
Right?
Chapter Seven