Star Quality

Chapter 14

"Are you going to tell Ron?" Hermione asked him, perching on the edge of his desk between two enormous piles of paper. However hard Harry worked, there always seemed to be enormous piles of paper.

Harry had only slept a couple of hours the night before. "About what?" he said, just to be an arse. She meant Draco. Of course she meant Draco. There was nothing left in Harry's life at the moment apart from Draco – or, more to the point, the hole he'd left, when he'd told Harry their relationship had been a nightmare.

"Don't be a dick," Hermione said, and folded her arms. "About you and—" She looked around. "You know who exactly who I mean," she added, speaking lower so that the other Aurors scattered around the office wouldn't hear.

"There is no me and 'exactly who you mean'," Harry snapped, and then felt guilty, but also angry, all at once. "I'm sorry," he said, pressing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "I know you're only trying to help, but I can't see how telling Ron would help me feel better. He would never understand."

"He would understand," Hermione protested.

"You'd better bloody well not tell him!" Harry said crossly. "Promise!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, pursing her lips very tight. "All right, I promise. But he would understand." She raised her chin very high and strode off, leaving Harry feeling even more worked up than when he'd started. He wondered if she was right, and groaned, putting his head in his hands. This was a disaster. He'd already lost Draco; now he appeared to be in danger of losing his best friends too. How much worse could things get?

^^^^^^

Harry had just got home – early for once – and was wondering whether he should send Hermione an owl apologising for being a massive, annoying wanker, and thanking her for putting up with him, when he heard the Floo go, and Ron fell out of the fireplace, putting his hands on his knees and gasping heavily.

"Mate, Hermione's gone mad," Ron said when he was able to catch his breath. "She – she . . ." He trailed off, seemingly unable to finish.

Harry Summoned a bottle of Firewhisky and was about to Summon a glass to go with it, and pour Ron a restorative drop, when Ron grabbed the bottle and drank right from it. "She's going to dinner with Malfoy," he said, and took another swallow, before turning and dropping heavily on the nearest sofa.

Harry felt his blood run first cold, and then hot. "Why?" he demanded.

The Floo went again, and Hermione stumbled out of it, brushing soot out of her hair and frowning at Ron. "Don't you run away from me, Ronald Weasley!" she said.

"You're running away with Malfoy," Ron said faintly, and shuddered, taking another long swallow.

"I am not running away with Malfoy!" Hermione said firmly. She tried to pull the bottle from Ron's hands, but Ron resisted, and they struggled for a while before Hermione came out the victor. "I am simply going to dinner with him."

"WHY?" said Ron.

Hermione turned towards Harry. "Well?" she said.

The overwhelming unfairness of this struck Harry like a Bludger to the forehead. "Explain it yourself!" he said testily, and then gaped in horror as Hermione turned back to Ron.

"Because Harry's in love with him," Hermione said. "So I thought I should try to make the effort."

"No, he's not!" Ron said, eyes as wide as treacle tarts.

"Hermione," Harry exploded. "You promised!"

"I crossed my fingers," Hermione said calmly. "You shouldn't be keeping secrets from Ron. You'll feel much better now it's out in the open, you'll see."