Let Me Be Your Voice

Part 7

The first few weeks of school passed uneventfully. Harry found the best way to deal with his many admirers was to just be himself. As soon as the other students saw that he didn’t respond to praise or sucking up, but was quiet for the most part and seemed to struggle in his lessons as much as the rest of them, they got over the hero worship pretty quickly.

Harry spent a lot of time considering Malfoy. He didn’t track him as he had in their sixth year because Malfoy made no attempt to hide. He showed up to his lessons as scheduled, ate his meals in the Great Hall and spent his evenings studying in the library. He kept to himself for the most part, and even Blaise and Pansy seemed to leave him alone.

The strangest thing about Malfoy this year, though, was that Harry had yet to hear him utter a single word. This phenomenon intrigued Harry, and he found himself paying close attention to Malfoy whenever they were in the same room together, trying to figure out what was going on with him.

Malfoy ignored Harry, to Harry’s chagrin. He seemed entirely unaffected by Harry’s constant watching.

One night in the common room, Hermione approached Harry while he was Malfoy-watching, pretending to study.

“Harry, may I speak to you outside?” she asked.

He looked up, surprised to see her. “Yeah, of course,” he said, shaking the clouds from his mind. He followed her into the deserted hallway.

“You seem to have taken up your obsession with Malfoy right where you left off,” she said, sounding strained.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, knowing full well he was entirely far too engrossed with Malfoy.

“Harry. You aren’t stupid and I know you know what I’m talking about. Just try and be a bit more discreet, will you? People are talking. They think you’re watching him because he’s plotting something like before. It’s worsening our attempts at uniting the houses. Just let him be.”

“Right,” Harry said. “I just wish I knew why he doesn’t talk.”

Hermione breathed heavily, rolling her eyes. “Why don’t you go up and ask him?” she suggested. “Anyway, there’s a meeting scheduled in the common room tonight after dinner. Mrs. Weasley will be there, and I’m certain she’s expecting you; so don’t miss it.”

She turned and went back to the common room, closing the door behind her.

~x~

Later that night, the eighth-years gathered together in the common room, Mrs. Weasley sitting in a comfortable arm chair turned towards them away from the fire, while Slughorn stood facing them, warming his large backside in front of the hearth.

“I suggest we have a party,” Seamus piped up. “In my honest opinion there’s no better way to foster, um, what d’ya call it?”

“Inter-house cooperation,” Hermione supplied.

“Yeah, that’s the word,” Seamus agreed. “We can have it here and invite the seventh-year students. It’ll be a blast!”

Molly Weasley tapped her quill against the clipboard she held in her lap thoughtfully. “What about the rest of the students?” she asked. “Don’t you feel like they may feel left out?”

“Oh, Molly,” Slughorn chuckled jovially. “I think it’s a brilliant idea. You’re absolutely correct, Mr. Finnigan. The best way to shake things up and get people talking is a celebration.”

“Aww, go on, Mrs. Weasley,” Dean Thomas quipped. “They can plan their own party or we can have another later on, after we’ve seen how well this one goes.”