The Sun, Moon & Stars

44. The Viscount of Privet Drive

'Okay, fine.' Ophelia conceded.

'I swear I have the most thick friend group.' Hermione shook her head and Ophelia shot her an offended glance.

'And what's that supposed to mean?' Ophelia snapped.

'It means that you don't seem all that concerned about fixing this. But I know that's not true, it means so much to you that instead of putting in an effort, you're avoiding them because you're scared of what could happen.' Hermione said firmly.

Ophelia didn't respond.

'Do you want to know what I really think?'

'Not particularly, but you're going to tell me anyway.' Ophelia frowned.

'I don't think you've lost them yet but I think there's a very real possibility you could if you don't get a move on to fix this. It's not their responsibility to make the first move.' Hermione said simply.

'What? It's mine then?'

'Of course it's yours! None of this may be your fault, but they're the ones hurting. They're the ones under the impression you betrayed them. It's your responsibility to explain it to them.' Hermione said decidedly.

'You should be a therapist.' Ophelia snorted.

'I'll consider it.' Hermione said thoughtfully, 'But you know I'm right. And at the moment, they're doing a whole lot more than you think.'

'Meaning?'

'Meaning, they haven't told anybody about your secret. They've kept quiet, and I think that deserves some recognition that even when they allegedly hate you, they care about your reputation.' Hermione replied simply.

'Or they're just not jerks.' Ophelia retorted.

'You know as well as I do it's more than that. They still care about you.' She stated, as she took a drink of pumpkin juice.

Ophelia considered this. She did have to speak to them before too much time had passed and there was no point—she knew that. But she was dreading it; if they didn't talk at all a part of her felt like she still had them. If they talked and he told her he hated her, she didn't know if she could handle it. Avoidance wasn't her best quality; it was one of the few things she inherited from Remus that was unpleasant. That, and self-doubt and neither were doing much good for her at the moment.

Suddenly, Hermione kicked her leg out of the blue and Ophelia frowned; opening her mouth to question why, when Hermione gestured to the door of the Great Hall; where Harry stood, frozen still when he realized she was there. He was in a crimson jumper and blue muggle jeans, with his jet black hair messy and untame, holding his wand in his right hand and the map (though it was concealed at the moment) in the other. Before she could say or do anything, Harry turned around and walked away; vanishing from sight.

Ophelia sighed, looked back down at her plate and picked up a piece of her raspberry toast when Hermione snatched it from her.

'Hey!' Ophelia frowned at the sudden lack of toast.

'That's enough! Go after him.' Hermione snapped.

'Right now?' Ophelia gaped.

'Why not?'

'I...I don't know...'

'No time like the present. You have nothing else to do today other than sit around and wallow in self-pity.' Hermione said firmly.

'Well, actually, I was going to spend some time with my Dad-'

'Is your relationship with your Dad currently crumbling apart?' Hermione questioned harshly.