Prequel to "In the Rain" -- hp/dm
“Harry, you cannot be serious.”
“I am, and I mean to do it soon.”
“But-really, him, of all people?”
This is why I hadn’t told them right off the bat. Sure, best friends are usually the people you would tell your thoughts and plans to, but I knew it would go over like this.
Hermione stared at me with her big brown eyes and chewed on her lower lip, chapping it further. The winter air had her hair in a constant state of static and it was clinging to Neville’s jumper, just behind her. It gave her a slightly distressed look, like an owl that was just on the verge of fluffing its feathers to release a sigh of tension.
Ron was frowning down at his food and gripping his fork tight. The force of his thoughts had the small piece of silverware bending in his hand. He was obviously trying to come up with a way to tactfully change my mind. Hermione had been encouraging his diplomacy in recent conversations and the threat of her reprimand was most likely still hanging in his head.
“Harry,” Hermione twisted her hands in her lap. “Are you sure this is a good decision? There are so many things that could go wrong. You could be inviting them to.”
“I think it will be alright,” I sighed.
“But will it really?” Hermione peered at me as if trying to read my reasoning like one of her dusty books.
“I think it will. Being cautious is one thing-,”
She made a noise of discomfort.
“But being paranoid is another.” I stood and gripped the coin in my pocket. Its cool metal was a reminder that our resources were limited when it came to wizards who knew how to fight. “We need more allies and I am not afraid to look for them in unconventional places.”
“But him? Has it got to be him?” Ron piped up, finally setting his bent fork down with a grimace. “Why would he be such a good ally?”
“Because,” I bent down, closer to the table. “Of his background.”
“Of being a git?” Ron blinked.
“His background with the dark arts,” Hermionie leaned forward and hissed at him. She pursed her lips as she sat back, thinking.
“We need more people who know what they’re looking at when they see a dark spell or object.” I said.
Ron snorted.
“He’s probably got loads of those just hanging in his room right now, ready to be used.” He said as he reached for another helping of gooseberry pudding. Hermione looked away as he dripped fruit sauce from the serving plate to his own.
“What makes you think he won’t just pretend to be on our side?” She asked, lines of worry creasing the skin of her brow. “How do you know he won’t just join him anyway?”
“He’s a coward who only looks out for himself,” I said.
“That’s not helping your argument, mate,” Ron pointed out around a mouthful of pudding.
“I won’t torture him when things get dull.” I said, and looked up as the subject of our conversation got up and made his way toward the entrance of the Great Hall. “I won’t kill him if he makes a mistake, fails a mission, or even decides he doesn’t want anything to do with the war at all."
Hermione sighed, clutching her books tightly. Ron was staring at his empty plate.
“I just want to give him a chance.” I whispered, turning my gaze from one to the other and back again. I wanted them to back my idea, to support me.
“Just,” Hermione said, biting her lip again and looking worried. “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”
“Yeah,” Ron joined in. “Don’t turn your back on him for one second.”
“Thanks guys,” I said, and gave them my best of-course-I’ll-be-careful grin before turning and following my target out of the room.
I went quickly down the darkened stair that led to the front doors of the school. I was just fast enough to catch a glimpse of the outside light on his pale hair as he stepped out of the castle.
Wrapping my fingers around the comforting wood grip of my wand, I followed.
-- fin --
Continue to In the Rain
“I am, and I mean to do it soon.”
“But-really, him, of all people?”
This is why I hadn’t told them right off the bat. Sure, best friends are usually the people you would tell your thoughts and plans to, but I knew it would go over like this.
Hermione stared at me with her big brown eyes and chewed on her lower lip, chapping it further. The winter air had her hair in a constant state of static and it was clinging to Neville’s jumper, just behind her. It gave her a slightly distressed look, like an owl that was just on the verge of fluffing its feathers to release a sigh of tension.
Ron was frowning down at his food and gripping his fork tight. The force of his thoughts had the small piece of silverware bending in his hand. He was obviously trying to come up with a way to tactfully change my mind. Hermione had been encouraging his diplomacy in recent conversations and the threat of her reprimand was most likely still hanging in his head.
“Harry,” Hermione twisted her hands in her lap. “Are you sure this is a good decision? There are so many things that could go wrong. You could be inviting them to.”
“I think it will be alright,” I sighed.
“But will it really?” Hermione peered at me as if trying to read my reasoning like one of her dusty books.
“I think it will. Being cautious is one thing-,”
She made a noise of discomfort.
“But being paranoid is another.” I stood and gripped the coin in my pocket. Its cool metal was a reminder that our resources were limited when it came to wizards who knew how to fight. “We need more allies and I am not afraid to look for them in unconventional places.”
“But him? Has it got to be him?” Ron piped up, finally setting his bent fork down with a grimace. “Why would he be such a good ally?”
“Because,” I bent down, closer to the table. “Of his background.”
“Of being a git?” Ron blinked.
“His background with the dark arts,” Hermionie leaned forward and hissed at him. She pursed her lips as she sat back, thinking.
“We need more people who know what they’re looking at when they see a dark spell or object.” I said.
Ron snorted.
“He’s probably got loads of those just hanging in his room right now, ready to be used.” He said as he reached for another helping of gooseberry pudding. Hermione looked away as he dripped fruit sauce from the serving plate to his own.
“What makes you think he won’t just pretend to be on our side?” She asked, lines of worry creasing the skin of her brow. “How do you know he won’t just join him anyway?”
“He’s a coward who only looks out for himself,” I said.
“That’s not helping your argument, mate,” Ron pointed out around a mouthful of pudding.
“I won’t torture him when things get dull.” I said, and looked up as the subject of our conversation got up and made his way toward the entrance of the Great Hall. “I won’t kill him if he makes a mistake, fails a mission, or even decides he doesn’t want anything to do with the war at all."
Hermione sighed, clutching her books tightly. Ron was staring at his empty plate.
“I just want to give him a chance.” I whispered, turning my gaze from one to the other and back again. I wanted them to back my idea, to support me.
“Just,” Hermione said, biting her lip again and looking worried. “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”
“Yeah,” Ron joined in. “Don’t turn your back on him for one second.”
“Thanks guys,” I said, and gave them my best of-course-I’ll-be-careful grin before turning and following my target out of the room.
I went quickly down the darkened stair that led to the front doors of the school. I was just fast enough to catch a glimpse of the outside light on his pale hair as he stepped out of the castle.
Wrapping my fingers around the comforting wood grip of my wand, I followed.
-- fin --
Continue to In the Rain