lomonaaeren

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Chapter Eight—Dropped Into the Cauldron

“Nott! Wait up.”

Theo blinks and turns around. Although he hoped that Harry would start becoming friends with Longbottom and forget a little about Weasley and Granger, he didn’t expect Longbottom to take it as far as accosting him in the halls.

Longbottom runs straight up to him, starts to say something, and then bends over, panting. Theo curbs his impatience. He should know better than anyone that just because someone is physically fit doesn’t mean a brain lives in their heads, after watching Draco play Quidditch all these years, and panting after a short run doesn’t mean you’re stupid, either.

“Ron and Hermione cornered Harry and dragged him into the classroom next to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom on the second floor a few minutes ago,” Longbottom gasps, once he straightens up again. His face is bright pink. “I don’t know what they wanted, but I know that Harry didn’t want to go with them.”

Theo feels a smile crawl across his face that must be unnerving, from the way that Longbottom visibly tenses his shoulders. “Thanks, Longbottom.”

“Er. You’re welcome.”

Theo nods to him and then speeds up, aiming for the stairs to the second floor instead of the ones to the library, where he was going to look up some of the laws constraining reporters in Britain from writing stories about people younger than seventeen. The books will be there in a few hours, but Weasley and Granger might not be.

As he runs, Theo mentally sharpens his tongue. If Harry gives him permission, or if he doesn’t but things are bad enough, then Theo won’t have to hold back on what he thinks of them.

*

Their voices are audible only when Theo comes within a few meters of the classroom, which tells him that someone must have put Silencing Charms up. Either not very good ones, or—

Or Harry’s power is simply breaking them, as Theo realizes when he steps through the doorway and feels a press of heat and silent roiling magic like a thunderstorm rising against his skin.

“I don’t have to apologize!” Weasley bellows. “I’m not the one hanging out with a slimy Slytherin!”

“If you call Theo slimy one more time—”

“Calm down, Harry!” Granger snaps, her hands on her hips. “We just wanted to talk to you—”

“No, you want to insult Theo and imply that I must be under the Imperius or something,” Harry snarls, spinning towards her. He doesn’t appear to have noticed Theo in the room yet. “Do you even remember that I broke that curse when Moody cast it? It’s bloody insulting to Theo that you’d suspect him of that, but it’s bloody insulting to me, too!”

Theo feels like cheering, and also that this is an appropriate moment to interrupt. “So sorry to intrude,” he says. “I’m not late, am I?” He saunters towards Harry and drapes an arm around his shoulder, leaning over his back to smile at Weasley and Granger.

Harry lets out a relieved breath and leans back against him, for a moment tightening his arm around Theo’s neck. It’s a grip that Theo’s never felt before, but he would endure a lot more discomfort than this to stand at Harry’s side.

And he has never seen Harry do it with Weasley or Granger, either, which makes it particularly valuable.

“You don’t need to be here, Nott,” Granger says. Theo thinks the tremor in her voice is rage, not upset. “We were just trying to make sure that Harry had a chance to talk to us, and talk this out—”

“That’s hard if you’re expecting him to do all the talking, and no apologies are forthcoming.” Theo glances at Weasley.

Weasley takes the bait, because you could dangle him off a cliff and he would still try to bite the hand holding him if it was a Slytherin’s hand. “The only thing I’m sorry about is staying away long enough for you to sneak in!”

“And that’s it,” Harry says, and his voice is soft and dark. Granger and Weasley shut up immediately. Theo has heard Harry talk like this before, but he suspects they never have. Unlike the way Harry touches him, Theo doesn’t mind sharing this.

“Theo has been there for me when you weren’t,” Harry says, staring at Weasley. “And you’re still refusing to be. Just say I’m sorry, Ron! Two little fucking words, and you’re acting as though they’ll Crucio you if you speak them!”

“Harry Potter! Language!”

“He can say what he fucking wants,” Theo tells her helpfully.

Granger gapes at him, not sure which victim to strike at first, but all that does is provide an opening for Weasley to slip in. “You—you corrupted him, Nott! You never paid attention to him, and then you were just suddenly there? What do you think that means, huh? That you just want to use him for your own good?”

“I never noticed him before because I wasn’t paying attention, and there was the little matter of our being in rival Houses.” Theo tightens his own hold on Harry. “But I’ve been honest with him since then, and haven’t refused to apologize when I was in the wrong after being his best friend for three years.”

Honest, except for the Confundus.

Theo bats the thought away with the ease of long practice. It’s something he’s had to do before, when he was surviving the summers.

“I am his best friend!” Weasley really might have a heart attack if his face gets any redder.

“Wrong tense,” Theo says mildly.

Harry reaches up and squeezes one of his hands, and Theo settles back with a little sigh and pout. All right, he won’t say any more, if Harry really doesn’t want him to.

Harry shakes his head at Theo, but only in such a way that someone touching him can pick up on it, and turns back to Weasley and Granger. “You’ve been my best friends,” he says. “I think that deserves some consideration.” He seems to ignore the way they perk up. “But it doesn’t mean that I need to listen to you whispering about Theo, and it doesn’t mean I just need to accept you back into my life without apologies. Apologize, Ron.”

Weasley turns redder still. Theo thinks about commenting that Weasley probably has trouble with the words because his native language is Git instead of English, but Harry might not appreciate that.

“What’s the problem?” Harry finally adds, coaxingly. “I’ve never seen you too proud to admit when you aren’t as good at something as Hermione, and I know that you get jealous sometimes, but it’s never been this bad. What is it, Ron?”

“I could have apologized after the dragon!” Weasley finally bursts out. “And instead, you were there with Nott, and you acted as though you were more interested in seeing him than in seeing me!”

“He hadn’t spent weeks calling me a cheat and a traitor.”

“But you just turned away from me and acted as though you were happy to see him, instead!” Weasley’s hands really might tear apart his robes if he keeps fisting them like that. “I could have apologized! I would’ve! But you didn’t miss me! You didn’t want me! And ever since then, you’ve acted like—like I have to bargain to be your best friend or something! That’s not the way friends work, Harry! Unless you’re a slimy Slytherin,” he adds, because apparently he can’t let go of those words, and he can’t stop glaring at Theo, even when Theo could have told him it wouldn’t end well for him.

Theo sighs a little. There are many things he could say, but Weasley wouldn’t understand them, and it has nothing to do with his native language.

“Apologizing isn’t a bargain, Ron. It’s just something you should do. Because you were wrong, and I didn’t put my name in the Goblet.”

“But you chose him!” Weasley stabs his finger at Theo.

“Harry,” Granger interrupts then. “Can’t you just—”

“No,” Harry says, standing there with his gaze pinning Weasley. Theo can feel the tension in his body, and the sorrow. He waits. “Can’t Ron just apologize? It’s not some huge sacrifice.”

“You’re making it into one by insisting on it!”

Harry tenses so hard this time that Theo touches his cheek, and ignores the way that Weasley and Granger both glare. They can think whatever they want. What matters is that Harry needs Theo, and needs to be touched, and not enough people in his life have ever done that for him.

“Look,” Harry says finally, his words precise. “This is the way it’s going to work—”

“You’re trying to make friendship into a bargain again, Harry!”

Harry’s wand slashes down, and Weasley is Silenced, his mouth still working open and shut for a minute before he catches a drift of good sense and shuts it. “I have every right to do that,” Harry whispers coldly, “when you keep trying to insist that to be friends with you I have to forgive you without apologies and give up Theo.”

Weasley casts his eyes down. Granger sucks in her breath, but says nothing. Theo raises his eyebrows. Look at that. They can learn.

“This is the way it’s going to work,” Harry repeats, after a moment when he seems to be waiting for them to interrupt him again. He relaxes a little in Theo’s arms. “You can spend time around me without apologies if you don’t criticize Theo or try to insist that I spend all my time with you or get upset when I want to do something with Neville or Theo or by myself. You can’t if you try to control me like you’ve been doing. You just dragged me in here, and you didn’t listen to what I wanted!”

Neither Weasley nor Granger says anything. Well, admittedly, in Weasley’s case, that’s not by choice, but Theo sees the way he flinches, and thinks that he might not have said anything even if he could speak.

(Not that Theo would wager any Galleons on that. Knuts, maybe).

“Okay,” Harry adds. “Can you agree to that?”

“Yes, Harry,” Granger whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Weasley nods, but doesn’t even try to mouth the words I’m sorry. Theo rolls his eyes, and doesn’t bother to disguise the gesture. Well, yes, Harry did say that they didn’t need to apologize, but holy Merlin, Weasley’s dedication to preserving his pride is stronger than Draco’s ego at this point.

That realization is slightly horrifying. Theo puts it aside to consider later.

“Good,” Harry says. “Now, I want to spend some time with Theo. Go away.”

Weasley opens his mouth, but Granger grabs his hand and tows him away. Theo is mildly satisfied to see that she at least manhandles people who aren’t Harry, and beyond satisfied that it probably is all Weasley’s personality that’s doing this and not his Confundus Charm.

Harry turns around the minute they’re out the door and throws his arms around Theo, leaning close.

Theo cradles him and murmurs, “Harry? Are you okay?” It can’t have been easy for him to face down two people who, whatever their faults, were loyal friends to him for a long time until this stupid Goblet fiasco happened.

“Yes,” Harry whispers. “It’s just—it hurts, you know? I know what they mean about just wanting everything to go back to the way it was. With them, not you,” he adds hastily, before Theo can even stiffen. “But I can’t go back. And so I have to have this kind of compromise with them, when I used to be able to trust them without compromising.

“You’re the only one I don’t have to compromise with.”

Theo slides his hand into Harry’s hair and tilts his head up. Harry’s eyes aren’t wet, but they’re hollow. Theo hates seeing him like that.

“Now, you know that we had to compromise about how much I would be allowed to insult Weasley and Granger in front of you. I do consider that a severe imposition.”

Harry’s face lightens, even though he doesn’t laugh. He nestles his cheek into Theo’s hand, and sighs. “Sorry I was late to meet you for our trip to Hagrid’s hut.”

It actually isn’t that time yet, which is why Theo was on his way to the library when Longbottom found him, but he simply smiles. “We have a few minutes yet. What do you want to do until then?”

Harry looks up at him with a gleam in his eyes, and drags Theo’s head down.

Theo goes happily in for the kiss. Harry has the best ideas.

*

“We know you’re in there, Hagrid, and we’re not going to stop knocking on the door until you let us in. So you might as well.”

Harry says that calmly, leaning his elbow on the door of the gamekeeper’s hut and waiting. Theo casts the spell that makes a thunderous knock roll through the building again. Because of the hut’s small size, it’s even louder than it would be on a house the size of Theo’s father’s.

He casts the spell two more times before Hagrid tears the door open and glares at them from rheumy, teary eyes. Theo stares before he can help himself. Wow, that is a lot of snot dribbling down his face.

I never knew half-giant bogies were also gigantic.

“You might as well come in, then,” Hagrid says, ungraciously, and backs away. A dog shoots out of the hut before Theo and Harry can go in and relieves itself with a desperate expression on the nearby grass. Theo shakes his head. Hagrid at least cares about his animals, if not his students. He really must be in a bad way.

“Why are you hiding here?” Harry asks, as they step in. Theo looks around and winces at the amount of cobwebs on everything. Harry elbows him.

Theo elbows him back. It’s not as if he would have said anything. But one doesn’t have to be a house-elf to find this all a little disgusting.

“Because everyone knows, now,” Hagrid says gloomily, flopping onto his chair. It creaks underneath him. Harry sits down on something that can be called a stool if you’re as polite as Narcissa Malfoy. Theo opts to stand. “I thought I could keep it a secret, but now—they’re all sending Howlers and calling on Dumbledore to sack me!”

He gets out a white-spotted red handkerchief and blows his nose into it, which at least gets rid of some of the bogies but half-deafens Theo.

“I don’t care,” Harry says firmly. “Ron and Hermione don’t care. Dumbledore doesn’t care, and you know he’s not going to sack you. What does it matter?”

“They’ll say that I’m a vicious beast! That I don’t have any business teaching you kids!”

“And they’ve called me the Heir of Slytherin, and a cheater and a liar, and shunned me for losing all those points for Gryffindor along with Ron and Hermione in first year. I’m still walking around, Hagrid! I didn’t let them make me hide!”

Theo stares at Harry with his mouth slightly open. That’s not a tactic that he thought Harry would try to manipulate Hagrid—well, all right, to help him, but manipulation is manipulation, and Theo doesn’t think the motivation differentiates it all that much.

Hagrid is turning bright red. “Harry—you don’t understand—”

“Right. I don’t understand why you’re hiding in your hut and letting the opinions of people you don’t even care about matter to you. Who cares if some people send Howlers? They did that with Professor Lupin last year, and he was the best Defense professor we ever had!”

(Theo would disagree with Harry about that, but only because Moody is fantastic for teaching them spells that you can actually use to defend yourself, by making people hurt so much that they leave you alone).

“And who cares if some of the Slytherin students drop your class because you’re a half-giant? Let them! You know that it doesn’t matter, that they’re just going to be messing up their own schedules by dropping Care of Magical Creatures! Come on, Hagrid, you were a Gryffindor, come out of hiding!”

Theo didn’t know Hagrid was a Gryffindor, although of course it makes perfect sense. He does stash the knowledge away for later, in case it’s ever useful.

Hagrid sniffles into the handkerchief again and produces something furry and horrifying from his nose that Theo has to look away from. “All—all right. But Harry, I also—I just wanted to date Olympe, and now she won’t look at me—”

“She’s a half-giant, too, though, right?”

“She likes to pretend she isn’t. She says she’s just tall.”

Theo bites his lips very, very hard so he won’t laugh.

“Well, then you can either tell her that she can date you when she admits it, or she can date you and just ignore what people are saying, or she doesn’t have to date you. But you get to make that choice, Hagrid. I learned a lesson about that this morning. You can’t force other people to do what you want, but if they won’t, then you can tell them to leave or they have to compromise.”

Hagrid seems to really notice Theo for the first time. “Is that why you’re here with the Nott boy and not Ron and Hermione?” he asks slowly.

Theo doesn’t react, but just keeps watching him. At least his nose isn’t furry anymore.

“Yeah,” Harry says. “Ron and Hermione want me to stop dating Theo. I don’t want to. So I told them they can either not make fun of him or they can walk away from being my friends.”

Hagrid looks shocked. “To just—just abandon them when they’ve been through so much with you, Harry—”

“They weren’t with me through the Goblet,” Harry says coolly. “Theo was. And he was my date to the Yule Ball, and he’s my boyfriend. Are you going to get all upset about something that doesn’t matter, Hagrid? About him being a Slytherin? The way people did about you being a half-giant, when that doesn’t matter, either?”

Theo is lost in admiration. Harry is really good at this, when he wants to be, although he would probably just say that he doesn’t need to be very often.

Hagrid’s face softens as he looks at Harry, who’s reached out to clasp Theo’s hand. “No. No, of course not. You’re right, Harry. House doesn’t matter.” He sighs a deep breath and sits up a little. “And I can’t let what they say matter to me, either. If it really matters to Olympe, then I reckon we just aren’t meant to be.”

“That’s the spirit,” Harry says with a smile, and pats Hagrid’s knee. Hagrid pats him back, nearly crushing Harry down in the chair.

They stay there for a little longer, but they’re on their way back to the castle, trampling through new snow, when a familiar black owl comes gliding towards Theo. He looks up with a smile, and braces his arm to accept her weight, freeing the letter tangled around one of her talons.

“Who’s that from?” Harry asks curiously.

“My father’s responded at last,” Theo says, and feels pleasure and anticipation stir in his gut. And now, the next step of the dance can begin.