FLIPPED - harry potter

༺ 43 - in between.

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| IN BETWEEN |
"Because I care about you!"

( Important chap! :) - comment and vote lovelies! )

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DINNER IN THE GREAT HALL THAT NIGHT wasn't a pleasant affair, for neither Harry or Alora. The news about their outburst to Umbridge had come into light, exceptionally fast, even for Hogwarts students -- usually things came around too quickly to process. Whilst sitting at dinner, all that could be heard was whispers -- but, it seemed that they didn't mind them overhearing, almost like they wanted them to.

"He says he saw Cedric Diggory murdered. . ."

"He reckons he duelled with You-Know-Who. . ."

"D'you reckon he's made Alora go round the bend. . ."

"Probably, loosing Cedric must've made her be hopeful of anything. . ."

"Poor girl. . ."

"He's a bad influence he is. . ."

Alora wanted to stand up, and scream at all the people whispering about her and Harry. And, she would've, if she wasn't already rumoured to be clutching at straws for anything Harry said or did, defending him would've just provoked their rumours more.

"What I don't get," Harry's voice shook, he laid his knife and fork onto the table as his hands trembled too much to keep them at ease, "is why they all believed the story two months ago when Dumbledore told them. . ."

"The thing is, Harry, I'm not sure they did," Hermione spoke grimly. "Oh, let's get out of here."

She slammed her knife and fork down, Ron stared longingly at his half-finished apple pie but followed suit. Once Alora got up, she could feel pairs of eyes trail her every move. Swear at them, was all that her mind was telling her. No, no, they're messing with you. They already think you're crazy.

"What d'you mean, you're not sure they believed Dumbledore?" Harry asked Hermione when they reached the first-floor landing.

"Look, you don't understand what it was like after it happened," Hermione uttered stilly. "You arrived back in the middle of the lawn clutching Cedric's dead body. . .none of us saw what happened in the maze. . .we just had Dumbledore's word for it that You-Know-Who had come back and killed Cedric and fought you."

"Which is the truth!" Harry's voice raised.

"I know it is, Harry, so will you please stop biting my head off?" Hermione looked at him wearily. "It's just that before the truth could sink in, everyone went home for the summer, where they spent two months reading about how you're a nutcase and Dumbledore's gone senile!"

For the rest of the journey back to the common room, Alora chose to block out the talk of the night that ruined her life. Because, truly, it was a reminder that he wasn't here anymore -- and without her brother, she wasn't sure she'd ever truly be happy again.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," Hermione sighed once they reached the Gryffindor tower. The portrait swung open to reveal the warm aroma behind it, the four climbed through.

The common room was almost empty; nearly everyone was still down at dinner, believing anything they were told or heard. Crookshanks and Nala were both sprawled on the sofas, sleeping near the hissing fireplace. Alora took a seat in one of the chairs, fully ready to drift off to sleep.

"How can Dumbledore have let this happen?" Hermione cried at once, causing Harry, Alora and Ron to prop up. She pounded the arms of her chair in a strange fury. "How can he let that terrible woman teach us? And in our O.W.L. year, too!"