Chapter 11.

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Y/N had been standing before Hermione, as if he were assuring her head against harm's way and waiting for the harmful thing itself to ebb away wholly. The thing at matter was Ron. He was staring at Hermione with spite in snakelike eyes beneath his forehead. It didn't matter to Hermione and instead she turned and her arms now around Y/N's waist from her position weirdly astraddle on the chair and she rose and finally closed on to his chest, and it was her custody. It wasn't your fault, sweetheart. The rat was a rat. What means more for us? The truth is naked in the sun. To the south is the new world. In the sky fly tall the stars. Select or Orion or his shoulder or the Dogs in the cold north and with their brightness, I let all you choose, seemed something different. All your choice.

Hermione turned around, awaiting the resolve, and yet, the eyes stared back. "What," she called, "it wasn't Crookshanks."

"Do you hear yourself?" Ron said. "You see what this is?"

"Ginger hair."

"Exactly."

"What's the color of your hair?"

"That's no matter."

"Hermione," Harry said, "you can't say it's Ron's hair."

"We don't know it's Crookshank's."

"We do."

"We don't," Y/N said.

And that was that. And now Ron turned aware of the people observing him closely and he put his face in his hands and turned and came back and paused for about a second and walked off. Harry followed him and joined them Fred, George, and Ginny. Y/N and Hermione were in the same position as for the last minutes and they glanced toward them and toward each other and Y/N sat beside Hermione in a different chair and they would not speak about the thing horrendous ever again. And they'd spoke in soft voices and they'd laugh.

Ron had the same agitated attitude in him and noticed that his family.

"Come on," Fred said. "You were always complaining about the rat. And he's been looking bad for some time now. Probably better to go on like this."

"Fred!" Ginny called.

"All he did was eat and sleep," George said.

"He bit Goyle once," Ron said. "Remember, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry said.

"His finest hour," Fred said, covering his mouth with his hand. "Let the scar on Goyle's finger stand as a lasting tribute to his memory. Oh, come on, Ron. Get yourself down to Hogsmeade and buy a new rat. What's the point of moaning?"

After that Harry persuaded Ron to come along with him to the Gryffindor team's final practice before the match with Ravenclaw, so for a moment Ron could pick his mind out of the liquid well of pity, on the Firebolt ride. They came off for the field.

Sometime later it was time for the practice and Ron sat on the stands. Gathered now around Wood was the team. Wood assigned the final instruction for them before tomorrow's match.

"Harry, I've just found out who Ravenclaw is playing as Seeker. It's Cho Chang. She's a fourth year and she's pretty good. I hoped she wouldn't be fit because she's had some problems with injuries." Wood scowled and said: "On the other hand she rides a Comet Two Sixty which is going to look like a joke next to the Firebolt." He gave Harry's broom a look of fervent admiration.

Then all mounted and kicked off the ground. Harry felt unable to speak because of the air against his face blowing or from the shock. The broom followed all his commands forthwith and without any hesitation from it, and Harry could man it better than any other. He turned sharply before Alicia Spinnet and she screamed and Harry came down into a dive and he went up anew after touching the grass with his feet, dangling off the broom.

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