Two Houses (HarryxDraco)

Chapter 26

Harry sat in one of the sagging armchairs by the fire with Asha snoozing on his lap. The Gryffindor common room was in semi-darkness; the flames of the dying fire were the only source of light, emitting a soft, orange glow on the threadbare rug beneath Harry's feet and warming his legs. He stroked Asha absent-mindedly as he stared into the flames, envious that his mischievous mustelid could sleep so contentedly; given the dramatic turn of events earlier that evening, she would be the only one sleeping soundly tonight.

He'd been sitting waiting in the deserted common room for a couple of hours now. Every time he heard the creak of the portrait door swing open, his stomach would clench and head would snap upwards, hoping that it was Ron finally returning from the Hospital Wing. So far, his wait had been a fruitless one. When he realised it wasn't his best friend returning, Harry would immediately sink back into his chair and resume staring into the fire. The students who did return didn't linger; they kept their heads bowed and scurried to their respective dorm rooms as quickly and quietly as possible.

Harry knew exactly how they were feeling, to have your deepest, darkest secrets laid bare for everyone to speculate over. He thought back to his Occlumency lessons and how invasive they were—and of the power that a Legilimens could wield over another person. Harry had always loved magic, been enchanted by it, even in its most mundane forms. But sometimes, magic frightened him. He had seen first-hand what abusing the power of magic could do—experienced first-hand magic at its darkest and most dreadful. He had even wielded it himself, with devastating results...

The image of Draco lying sprawled in a pool of his own blood flashed through Harry's mind. He instinctively clenched his eyes shut as though that would shield the shameful memory from his mind's eye, but of course, doing this only gave it greater clarity. Yes, Harry knew all too well what it was like to use magic out of anger. It brought out the worst in him—in all of them. While Dennis's actions and those in Potter's Army (Harry cringed at the thought of them using his name) were understandable, it didn't make them right. Lashing out and hurting others when you're hurting didn't achieve anything. They'd only succeeded in humiliating the entire student body and, most likely, turned everyone against their 'cause'. Although, from what Harry could tell, he doubted Dennis would care about that.

The creak of the portrait door swinging open again pulled Harry from his deep reverie and his insides jolted as Hermione stepped through the portrait hole, closely followed by Ron. He immediately sprang to his feet, causing Asha to squeak in protest as she was unceremoniously dislodged from her comfortable sleeping position before scarpering in the direction of the boys' dormitory and out of sight. When Ron and Hermione caught sight of Harry, they paused. Harry opened his mouth to speak but found that words failed him. Although technically there were only a few meters separating them, he felt as though the distance between him and his best friends was far greater now than it had been earlier this evening. He'd put their friendship to the test on several occasions throughout the years. The last year, in particular, had been incredibly difficult, but despite some stumbles along the way, the three of them had always come out the other end, the bonds of friendship stronger than ever. But by the expression written across Ron's face—the look of betrayal—Harry wasn't entirely confident that their friendship would recover from this.

To his immense relief, however, Hermione appeared somewhat mollified by his appearance. While Ron lingered awkwardly by the doorway, she walked straight up to Harry and shook her head. "I should have known something like this was going to happen. Every bloody year without fail there's drama in some shape or form! If it's not mountain trolls in bathrooms, it's basilisks and secret chambers, or triwizard tournaments, or Umbridge—and now this!" She flopped down onto the settee next to the fire and tore off the garland from her head. "It would be nice if just for one year—just one year—our Halloween celebrations weren't ruined!"