𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑

the one with salazar's army

Harry did a double take. "What?"

"C'mon Harry," I groaned. "Please tell me you've noticed it! Don't tell me you saw them together and thought, oh, best of friends! Because there's more there and we all know it—Vincent has a running bet that Dean would be the one to initiate it!"

"Wh—Who's Vincent?"

"Who's—Vincent Crabbe!" I nearly laughed at how oblivious he was. "He's daft and he noticed it better than you."

"Dean,"Harry said slowly. "And Seamus?"

"Please tell me you're not affronted by the idea of two boys kissing," I frowned. Harry still looked puzzled. "Because the world has bigger problems than boys who like to kiss boys—"

"Merlin—You are right—"

"Aren't I always—"

"—That explains so much!"

"Morning," Harry said brightly to Ron, me and Hermione, joining us at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall after he returned from the owlery. He was doing a very dumb smile that I wasn't fond of. His eyes looked glazed and he looked far far away. My brain skimmed through the pages of the book immediately to find out what it was.

Or, instead of torturing myself, I can just give into the oblivion and not be all-knowing for once!

No—that can't be. I have to remember otherwise there's be another Crouch fuckup.

"What are you looking so pleased about?" Ron asked, eyeing Harry in surprise.

"Erm — Quidditch later," said Harry happily, pulling a large platter of bacon and eggs toward him.

"Oh, yeah . . ." said Ron. He put down the bit of toast he was eating and took a large swig of pumpkin juice. Then he said, "Listen—you don't fancy going out a bit earlier with me, do you? Just to — er — give me some practice before training? So I can, you know, get my eye in a bit . . ."

"Look, I don't think you should," said Hermione seriously, "you're both really behind on homework as it is and the only one who's actually working on time is Skylar, that too because of Malfoy, of all people —"

But she broke off; the morning post was arriving and, as usual, the Daily Prophet was soaring toward her in the beak of a screech owl, which landed perilously close to the sugar bowl and held out a leg; Hermione pushed a Knut into its leather pouch, took the newspaper, and scanned the front page critically as the owl took off again. I rounded up on Harry as Ron tried to distract Hermione from homework.

"It was Cho, wasn't it?" I asked in a whisper. I didn't need an answer. The rise of color on my brother's pale face was enough. "I'm going to go out there and tell you—I am.not particularly fond of her."

"What?" Harry hissed. "Why not?"

She snitches on our still non-existent Dumbledore's Army, for example. But I couldn't tell him that.

"She's a Tornadoes Fan!" I said because that's all I could remember Ron being disdainful about. Harry rolled his eyes dramatically.

"You don't know shit about Quidditch—"

"She broke up with Cedric and now she's after you," I said. "If you ask me, I think she fancies famous boys. Like Cedric and you. I just said what I had to say—"

"I don't like Malfoy either," Harry said. "Yet you go about frolicking with him—"

"I don't frolick—"

"— a moment," said Hermione suddenly. "Oh no — Sirius!"

"What's happened?" said Harry, and he snatched at the paper so violently that it ripped  down the middle so that he and Hermione were holding half each.