mirrorball

chapter eight

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Clara was still furious two days later when Harry came to her side in the library.

"I suppose you're still mad at me,"

"Furious more like." said Clara, slamming her book shut and stuffing it into her bag. 

"Right..." said Harry, watching her continue to stuff her bag with books and papers, "Well I came to apologize, you see-"

Clara was gone. Her feet carried her down the familiar pathway from her favorite library desk to the doors. Harry was quick to trail her, jogging a bit to make up for the space he lost from her head start.

"Hey! I was talking to you there!" he shouted, the doors slam echoing in the hallway.

"Really? I didn't notice." huffed Clara, speeding up towards the Slytherin common room.

"Honestly! How long are you going to stay angry with me?"

"I haven't really decided, but every time you open your mouth it gets a bit longer."

Harry opened and shut his mouth about five times before continuing, "Look, I am sorry about the things I said, and I'm sorry I've been pinning everything on Draco."

"So you're finally admitting it wasn't him?" 

"Yes! That's what I've been trying to tell you!"

At this, Clara stopped walking away and allowed Harry to come to her side. The hallway was emptied of students, and the only sound that could be heard was the wind from outside.

"I really thought it was him. Everything made sense to me, and I guess I just wanted to have the problem over with. I wanted it to be fixed so I could focus on other things."

"What other things?"

"Well, you," said Harry, as if this was obvious. Clara paused as his words brushed over her skin. A small blush was painted on her cheeks and she tried to shake it.

"Right. Well, as long as we're in agreement that the source of darkness this year is not Draco."

"Completely and one hundred percent in agreement."

"Good." There was only silence as the pair looked at each other. Finally Clara smiled and took Harry's hand, "Care for some chess?"

The next morning there was a strangely thick fog as Clara walked to Herbology. The class entered the greenhouse, late, and took their spots. Pansy and Clara sat across from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Clara put on her protective glasses and got to work on their assignment as the trio of Gryffindors started chatting.

"So how was Slughorn's latest party?" Harry asked Hermione.

 "Oh, it was quite fun, really, I mean, he drones on about famous ex-pupils a bit, and he absolutely fawns on McLaggen because he's so well connected, but he gave us some really nice food and he introduced us to Gwenog Jones." 

"What are you babbling on about, Granger?" sneered Pansy.

"Pansy, why don't you go talk to Draco. He can't stop staring at you." said Clara quickly.

"Of course he can't. Well, boy duty calls, see you." Soon, Pansy had pranced her way to the other end of the table where Draco stood, looking disgusted at the pod in his hand. Clara was also disgusted by the pod that she had dug out, but her disgust soon turned to curiosity.

"Gwenog Jones?" said Ron, his eyes widening under his own goggles. "The Gwenog Jones? Captain of the Holyhead Harpies?"

"That's right," said Hermione. "Personally, I thought she was a bit full of herself, but —"