𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐦𝐞 | 𝐇.𝐏.

𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝟒 - 𝟖

Hermione stayed with me as I settled down, and then stayed with me as I got dressed and ready for the day. It was a Sunday, a perfect day to sit around and do absolutely nothing. As I came down the stairs with Hermione, I suddenly remembered what I had made a vow to myself right before I fell asleep.

I had vowed that I would act cool and distant to Potter all day, to tell him that what happened, or what didn't happen, last night was of no importance. Except that was the biggest lie I had ever even thought.

Around Weasley I would be extra normal. I was sure that Potter told him everything, but I had to lie to his face as well and assure him that whatever he saw last night was a mistake.

A mistake.

Those words curdled my insides like spoiled milk. 

Potter and Weasley jumped up the minute they saw us. "Are you okay?" Potter asked me directly. "Is she okay?" Weasley asked Hermione. Hermione looked to me uneasily. 

I laughed airily and waved my hand. "It was just a bad dream. It was nothing."

"It didn't sound like nothing," Potter argued.

"Well it was nothing," I countered, crossing my arms, and we had something akin to a murderous staring contest before Hermione twisted me around by my arm. 

"Come on. You haven't eaten anything all day," she said. "It's one in the afternoon."

I raised my eyebrows in shock. "I slept that late?"

"You slept that late," she confirmed. "Everyone is at lunch right now. We were waiting for you."

"You didn't have to do that," I said.

"Obviously, we kind of did," Hermione replied reluctantly.

"Everyone's overreacting." I turned, shielding my face from all three of them as I started picking up spare books just lying around and began arranging them on the table in size order. I didn't even know whose they were. 

"You sounded like you were under the Cruciatus Curse up there," Weasley commented.

"That's not something to throw around, Ron," Hermione snapped.

"I hope I didn't sound like the spider," I spun around and said, irritated that none of them could drop it.

"That's not what he meant," Potter stuck up for him.

"It's what I heard," I replied shirtily. I really hoped Hermione didn't stop me again. I was in a bad mood, and Potter was my closest outlet.

"You must have heard wrong, then," he said, taking a step closer to me.

"No, I think my hearing's fine." I took a step closer to him.

Hermione and Weasley were exchanging nervous glances off to the side.

"Well I think you need to check your hearing, then," he pushed.

"Again, I think my hearing's perfect. Exquisite, actually." My eyes flashed. He better not say anything idiotic, because I was not going to hold back.

"Well it was my exquisite hearing that heard you screaming like you were being murdered upstairs," he said. We were nose to nose again, just like last night, but this time we were brought together by pure fury, instead of an emotion I really didn't want to think about. "So excuse me, excuse all of us, if we were worried about you."

"You don't need to be worried about me. I can be worried for myself," I said, but my heart melted just a little at his words. Because I knew he was truly only speaking for himself.