Book: Courage
Chapter 84
Word Count: 5371
Layla was sat in the common room on Saturday evening with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Harry and Ron were talking about the potions book that was apparently the property of 'The Half-Blood Prince', Hermione was doing homework, and Layla was fiddling with her Exploding Snap cards.
"Here and there are directions of spells, and I think the Prince created the spells himself," Harry said to Ron, showing him the book.
"Or herself," said Hermione irritably, overhearing the boys' conversation. "It might have been a girl. I think the handwriting looks more like a girl's than a boy's."
"The Half-Blood Prince, he was called," Harry said. "How many girls have been Princes?"
"Sexist," Layla joked, shuffling the cards in her hand.
Hermione merely scowled and twitched her essay on The Principles of Rematerialization away from Ron, who was trying to read it upside down.
"It's five to eight, I'd better go," said Harry, stuffing the amazing potions back into his bag, "I'll be late for Dumbledore."
"Ooooh!" gasped Hermione, looking up at once. "Good luck! We'll wait up, we want to hear what he teaches you!"
"Hope it goes okay," said Layla, and the three of them watched Harry leave through the portrait hole.
"So, now that he's gone," said Hermione, turning to Layla and Ron, "what do you really think of the Half-Blood Prince's book?"
"Leave it alone, Hermione," Ron rolled his eyes. "You're just jealous because Harry is finally doing better than you in Potions."
"That's not what this is about," Hermione snapped, though her cheeks flushed slightly as if she had been caught out. "That book could be jinxed for all we know. I'm just looking out for Harry."
"And I'm sure he appreciates it, 'Mione," said Layla, "but this is Harry we're talking about. The more that you tell him your worries about the book, it's only going to make him want to learn more about it. I'd say just leave him be."
"Exactly," Ron agreed, lounging on the couch. "Harry is not your property, Hermione. Let him do what he wants. That book seems really awesome."
Hermione frowned and huffed, collecting all of her things and walking off to the girls' dorms without another word.
"Now look what you've done," Layla said to Ron, a little amused.
"It's true, though," Ron shrugged. "I mean, it's just a book. A really good book. Don't you agree, Lay?"
"I guess," Layla said quietly. "Anyway, want to play a game of Exploding Snap with me?"
As Hermione had predicted, the sixth years' free periods were not the hours of blissful relaxation Ron had anticipated, but times in which to attempt to keep up with the vast amount of homework they were being set. Not only were they studying as though they had exams every day, but the lessons themselves had become more demanding than ever before. Layla barely understood half of what Professor McGonagall said to them these days; even Hermione had had to ask her to repeat instructions once or twice.
Nonverbal spells were now expected, not only in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but in Charms and Transfiguration too. Layla frequently looked over at her classmates in the common room or at mealtimes to see them purple in the face and straining as though they had overdosed on U-No-Poo; but she knew that they were really struggling to make spells work without saying incantations aloud. It was a relief to get outside into the greenhouses; they were dealing with more dangerous plants than ever in Herbology, but at least they were still allowed to swear loudly if the Venomous Tentacula seized them unexpectedly from behind.
One result of their enormous workload and the frantic hours of practicing nonverbal spells was that Harry, Layla, Ron, and Hermione had so far been unable to find time to go and visit Hagrid. He had stopped coming to meals at the staff table, an ominous sign, and on the few occasions when they had passed him in the corridors or out in the grounds, he had mysteriously failed to notice them or hear their greetings.
"We've got to go and explain," said Hermione, looking up at Hagrid's huge empty chair at the staff table the following Saturday at breakfast.
"We've got Quidditch tryouts this morning!" said Layla. "And we're supposed to be practicing that Aguamenti Charm from Flitwick!"
"Anyway, explain what?" said Ron. "How are we going to tell him we hated his stupid subject?"
"We didn't hate it!" said Hermione.
"Speak for yourself, I haven't forgotten the skrewts," said Ron darkly. "And I'm telling you now, we've had a narrow escape. You didn't hear him going on about his gormless brother — we'd have been teaching Grawp how to tie his shoelaces if we'd stayed."
"I hate not talking to Hagrid," said Hermione, looking upset.
"We'll go down after Quidditch," Harry assured her. "But trials might take all morning, the number of people who have applied. I dunno why the team's this popular all of a sudden."
"Oh, come on, Harry," said Layla. "It's not Quidditch that's popular, it's you! You've never been more interesting, and frankly, you've never been more fanciable."
Ron gagged on a large piece of kipper while Harry flushed a bright red at the words that came from Layla's mouth, not taking his eyes off of her.
"Lay's got a point," said Hermione. "Everyone knows you've been telling the truth now, don't they? The whole Wizarding world has had to admit that you were right about Voldemort being back and that you really have fought him twice in the last two years and escaped both times. And now they're calling you 'the Chosen One' — well, come on, can't you see why people are fascinated by you? And you've been through all that persecution from the Ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar. You can still see the marks on the back of your hand where that evil woman made you and Layla write with your own blood, but you stuck to your story anyway..."
"You can still see where those brains got hold of me in the Ministry, look," said Ron, shaking back his sleeves.
"And it doesn't hurt that you've grown about a foot over the summer either," Hermione finished, ignoring Ron.
"I'm tall," said Ron inconsequentially.
The post owls arrived, swooping down through rain-flecked windows, scattering everyone with droplets of water. Most people were receiving more post than usual; anxious parents were keen to hear from their children and to reassure them, in turn, that all was well at home. Layla had one letter from Remus, as well as some white chocolate exploding bon bons which he hadn't sent in a while. Layla smiled, but there was a sadness beneath it. She had gotten used to Sirius' letter arriving at the same time as her dad's, but now... it was just Remus' letter. Sirius would never write to her again.
Harry and Ron both received small, identical packages.
"Ha!" said Harry, unwrapping the parcel to reveal a new copy of Advanced Potion-Making, fresh from Flourish and Blotts.
"Oh good," said Hermione, delighted. "Now you can give that graffitied copy back."
"Are you mad?" said Harry. "I'm keeping it! Look, I've thought it out—"
He pulled the old copy of Advanced Potion-Making out of his bag and tapped the cover with his wand, muttering, "Diffindo!" The cover fell off. He did the same thing with the brand-new book (Hermione looked scandalized). He then swapped the covers, tapped each, and said, "Reparo!"
There sat the Prince's copy, disguised as a new book, and there sat the fresh copy from Flourish and Blotts, looking thoroughly secondhand.
"I'll give Slughorn back the new one, he can't complain, it cost nine Galleons."
Hermione pressed her lips together, looking angry and disapproving, but was distracted by a third owl landing in front of her carrying that day's copy of the Daily Prophet. She unfolded it hastily and scanned the front page.
"Anyone we know dead?" asked Layla in a determinedly casual voice; she posed the same question every time Hermione opened her paper.
"No, but there have been more dementor attacks," said Hermione. "And an arrest."
"Excellent, who?" said Layla, thinking of Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Stan Shunpike," said Hermione.
"What?" said Harry, startled.
"'Stanley Shunpike, conductor on the popular Wizarding conveyance the Knight Bus, has been arrested on suspicion of Death Eater activity. Mr Shunpike, 21, was taken into custody late last night after a raid on his Clapham home...'"
"Stan Shunpike, a Death Eater?" said Harry. "No way!"
"He might have been put under the Imperius Curse," said Ron reasonably. "You never can tell."
"It doesn't look like it," said Hermione, who was still reading. "It says here he was arrested after he was overheard talking about the Death Eaters' secret plans in a pub." She looked up with a troubled expression on her face. "If he was under the Imperius Curse, he'd hardly stand around gossiping about their plans, would he?"
"It sounds like he was trying to make out he knew more than he did," said Ron. "Isn't he the one who claimed he was going to become Minister of Magic when he was trying to chat up those veela?"
"Yeah, that's him," said Layla. "I don't know what they're playing at, taking Stan seriously."
"They probably want to look as though they're doing something," said Hermione, frowning. "People are terrified — you know the Patil twins' parents want them to go home? And Eloise Midgen has already been withdrawn. Her father picked her up last night."
"What!" said Ron, goggling at Hermione. "But Hogwarts is safer than their homes, bound to be! We've got Aurors, and all those extra protective spells, and we've got Dumbledore!"
"I don't think we've got him all the time," said Layla quietly, glancing toward the staff table. "Haven't you noticed? His seat's been empty as often as Hagrid's this past week."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up at the staff table. The headmaster's chair was indeed empty.
"I think he's left the school to do something with the Order," said Layla in a low voice. "I mean... it's all looking serious, isn't it?"
There had been a horrible incident the day before, when Hannah Abbott had been taken out of Herbology to be told her mother had been found dead. They had not seen Hannah since.
When they left the Gryffindor table five minutes later to head down to the Quidditch pitch, they passed Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. Remembering what Hermione had said about the Patil twins' parents wanting them to leave Hogwarts, Layla was unsurprised to see that the two best friends were whispering together, looking distressed. For the first time since last year, Lavender and Parvati didn't whisper and glare at Layla whenever they passed.
But when Ron drew level with them, Parvati suddenly nudged Lavender, who looked around and gave Ron a wide smile. Ron blinked at her, then returned the smile uncertainly. His walk instantly became something more like a strut. Hermione looked cold and distant all the way down to the stadium through the cool, misty drizzle, and departed to find a place in the stands without wishing Ron good luck. Layla bid farewell to Hermione, wished Ron good luck, waved to Harry, and then walked over to Dean and Seamus, who were both also trying out.
The trials took most of the morning. Half of Gryffindor House seemed to have turned up, from first years who were nervously clutching a selection of the dreadful old school brooms, to seventh years who towered over the rest, looking coolly intimidating. The latter included a large, wiry-haired boy Layla recognized immediately from the Hogwarts Express. Cormac McLaggen, he was in the Slug Club.
Harry, as Captain, started with a basic test, asking all applicants for the team to divide into groups of ten and fly once around the pitch. The first ten was made up of first years, and it could not have been plainer that they had hardly ever flown before. Only one boy managed to remain airborne for more than a few seconds, and he was so surprised he promptly crashed into one of the goal posts.
The second group was comprised of ten silly girls who, when Harry blew his whistle, merely fell about giggling and clutching one another.
"Why are they even here?" Layla wondered aloud, annoyed.
Why do you think?" Katie Bell replied, walking over and pointing at Harry.
"Look at that," chimed in Dean. "The price of fame."
"But he's always been famous," Layla said.
"Yeah, but now he's not just famous for bein' crazy," countered Seamus.
He was never crazy," shot back Layla, looking around for support. Ron was too distracted with his own nerves to know what was going on, eyeing what appeared to be his only direct competition for the Keeper position, McLaggen.
Fortunately, Katie was not so distracted.
"I always believed Harry," she said stubbornly. "That Umbridge woman was a cow. How anyone could believe her over him is beyond me."
"Well, I believe him now!" Seamus protested.
"Sure," agreed Dean. "And now he's a hero and everything who has fought You-Know-Who and lived, and he was right when the Ministry was wrong..."
"We're just sayin' Harry's likely got his pick of the girls, if he wants it," said Seamus, then added wistfully, "Lucky bloke."
Layla peered more closely at group number two, just now finishing up a trial which seemed to consist of little more than giggling and fawning all over Harry. The group was being led by Romilda Vane. As Harry dispersed them and sent them on their way, Layla realized that she had been grinding her teeth together painfully. Her jaw loosened up as she watched the group of silly girls leave the pitch.
The third group had a pileup halfway around the pitch. Most of the fourth group had come without broomsticks. The fifth group were Hufflepuffs.
"If there's anyone else here who's not from Gryffindor," roared Harry, "leave now, please!"
There was a pause, then a couple of little Ravenclaws went sprinting off the pitch, snorting with laughter.
After two hours, many complaints, and several tantrums, one involving a crashed Comet Two Sixty and several broken teeth, Harry had narrowed the Chaser positions down to six: Ginny, Layla, Ginny's friend Demelza, Katie, Dean, and Seamus. But in the end, three of them stood out the most and were awarded the Chaser positions: Katie, Layla, and Ginny.
Demelza sulked as she went into the girls' locker room to change, and Layla saw Dean and Seamus also heading off of the pitch. She rushed to catch up to them.
"Dean!" she called out, running up to him. "I'm sorry Dean, Seamus."
Seamus smiled weakly and shrugged, then continued on his way. Dean, on the other hand, didn't look at her.
"Don't worry about it," he said. "No big deal."
"You're sure you're all right?" she asked.
"I'm fine," he answered, barely glancing at her. "Just got a bit of a headache. I think I'm going to go upstairs."
"Oh. All right..." Layla watched as Dean walked on past her, after Seamus and into the locker room. She stood for a moment, the first twitches of annoyance flickering at her mood, but she tried to tell herself that he must be upset and she should just let him cool off. She turned and hurried back out to the pitch.
After that, Harry chose the Beaters. Neither of the chosen Beaters had the old brilliance of Fred and George. There was Jimmy Peakes, a short but broad-chested third-year boy, and Ritchie Coote, who looked weedy but aimed well. They now joined Katie, Layla, and Ginny in the stands to watch the selection of their last team member.
The Keeper trials were last. Each Keeper flew up to the goal hoops.
None of the first five applicants saved more than two goals apiece, but Cormac McLaggen saved four penalties out of five. On the last one, however, he shot off in completely the wrong direction; McLaggen returned to the ground, grinding his teeth.
Ron looked ready to pass out as he mounted his Cleansweep Eleven.
"Good luck!" cried a voice from the stands. Layla looked around, expecting to see Hermione, but it was Lavender.
Ron saved one, two, three, four, five penalties in a row. He'd gotten the Keeper position, beating McLaggen.
"Well done," Harry spoke to the new Gryffindor team. "You flew really well—"
"You did brilliantly, Ron!"
This time it really was Hermione running toward them from the stands; Layla saw Lavender walking off the pitch, arm in arm with Parvati, a rather grumpy expression on her face. Ron looked extremely pleased with himself and even taller than usual as he grinned at the team and at Hermione.
After fixing the time of their first full practice for the following Thursday, Harry, Layla, Ron, and Hermione bade good-bye to the rest of the team and headed off toward Hagrid's. A watery sun was trying to break through the clouds now and it had stopped drizzling at last.
"I thought I was going to miss that fourth penalty," Ron was saying happily. "Tricky shot from you there, Lay, did you see, had a bit of spin on it."
"Well, I didn't want to go easy on you," Layla chuckled. "Playing fair and all."
"I was better than that McLaggen anyway," said Ron in a highly satisfied voice. "Did you see him lumbering off in the wrong direction on his fifth? Looked like he'd been Confunded."
To Layla's surprise, Hermione turned a very deep shade of pink at these words. Ron noticed nothing; he was too busy describing each of his other penalties in loving detail.
The great gray hippogriff, Buckbeak, was tethered in front of Hagrid's cabin. He clicked his razor-sharp beak at their approach and turned his huge head toward them.
"Oh dear," said Hermione nervously. "He's still a bit scary, isn't he?"
"Come off it, you've ridden him, haven't you?" said Ron. Harry stepped forward and bowed low to the hippogriff without breaking eye contact or blinking. After a few seconds, Buckbeak sank into a bow too.
"How are you?" Harry asked him in a low voice, moving forward to stroke the feathery head. "Missing him? But you're okay here with Hagrid, aren't you?"
"Oi!" said a loud voice.
Hagrid had come striding around the corner of his cabin wearing a large flowery apron and carrying a sack of potatoes. His enormous boarhound, Fang, was at his heels; Fang gave a booming bark and bounded forward.
"Git away from him! He'll have yer fingers — oh. It's yeh lot."
Hagrid stood and looked at them all for a split second, then turned and strode into his cabin, slamming the door behind him.
"Oh dear!" said Hermione, looking stricken.
"Don't worry about it," said Harry grimly. He walked over to the door and knocked loudly.
"Hagrid! Open up, we want to talk to you!"
There was no sound from within.
"If you don't open the door, we'll blast it open!" Harry said, pulling out his wand.
"Threatening a teacher?" said Layla, amused. "Bold move, Harry."
But before Harry could say anything, the door flew open again, and there stood Hagrid and looking, despite the flowery apron, positively alarming.
"I'm a teacher!" he roared at Harry. "A teacher, Potter! How dare yeh threaten ter break down my door!"
"I'm sorry, sir," said Harry, emphasizing the last word as he stowed his wand inside his robes.
Hagrid looked stunned. "Since when have yeh called me 'sir'?"
"Since when have you called me 'Potter'?"
"Oh, very clever," growled Hagrid. "Very amusin'. That's me outsmarted, innit? All righ', come in then, yeh ungrateful little..."
Mumbling darkly, he stood back to let them pass.
"Well?" said Hagrid grumpily, as Harry, Layla, Ron, and Hermione sat down around his enormous wooden table, Fang laying his head immediately upon Layla's knee. "What's this? Feelin' sorry for me? Reckon I'm lonely or summat?"
"No," said Layla at once. "We wanted to see you."
"We've missed you!" said Hermione tremulously.
"Missed me, have yeh?" snorted Hagrid. "Yeah. Righ'."
He stomped around, brewing up tea in his enormous copper kettle, muttering all the while. Finally he slammed down three bucket-sized mugs of mahogany-brown tea in front of them and a plate of his rock cakes.
"Hagrid," said Hermione timidly, when he joined them at the table and started peeling his potatoes with a brutality that suggested that each tuber had done him a great personal wrong, "we really wanted to carry on with Care of Magical Creatures, you know."
Hagrid gave another great snort.
"We did!" said Hermione. "But none of us could fit it into our schedules!"
"Yeah. Righ'," said Hagrid again.
There was a funny squelching sound and they all looked around: Layla jumped back in shock, Hermione let out a tiny shriek, and Ron leapt out of his seat and hurried around the table away from the large barrel standing in the corner that they had only just noticed. It was full of what looked like foot-long maggots, slimy, white, and writhing.
"What are they, Hagrid?" asked Layla, trying to sound interested rather than revolted.
"Jus' giant grubs," said Hagrid.
"And they grow into...?" said Ron, looking apprehensive.
"They won' grow inter nuthin'," said Hagrid. "I got 'em ter feed ter Aragog." And without warning, he burst into tears.
"Hagrid!" cried Hermione, leaping up, hurrying around the table the long way to avoid the barrel of maggots, and putting an arm around his shaking shoulders. "What is it?"
"It's... him..." gulped Hagrid, his beetle-black eyes streaming as he mopped his face with his apron. "It's... Aragog... I think he's dyin'. He got ill over the summer an' he's not gettin' better... I don' know what I'll do if he... if he... we've bin tergether so long..."
Hermione patted Hagrid's shoulder, looking at a complete loss for anything to say.
"Is there — is there anything we can do?" Layla asked.
"I don' think there is, Layla," choked Hagrid, attempting to stem the flood of his tears. "See, the rest o' the tribe... Aragog's family... they're gettin' a bit funny now he's ill... bit restive..."
"Yeah, I think we saw a bit of that side of them," said Ron in an undertone.
"...I don' reckon it'd be safe fer anyone but me ter go near the colony at the mo'," Hagrid finished, blowing his nose hard on his apron and looking up. "But thanks fer offerin', Layla... it means a lot."
After that, the atmosphere lightened considerably, for although neither Harry nor Ron had shown any inclination to go and feed giant grubs to a murderous, gargantuan spider, Hagrid seemed to take it for granted that they would have liked to have done and became his usual self once more.
"Ar, I always knew yeh'd find it hard ter squeeze me inter yer timetables," he said gruffly, pouring them more tea. "Even if yeh applied fer Time-Turners—"
"We couldn't have done," said Hermione. "We smashed the entire stock of Ministry Time-Turners when we were there last summer. It was in the Daily Prophet."
"Ar, well then," said Hagrid. "There's no way yeh could've done it... I'm sorry I've bin — yeh know — I've jus' bin worried about Aragog... an' I did wonder whether, if Professor Grubbly-Plank had bin teachin' yeh—"
At which all four of them stated categorically and untruthfully that Professor Grubbly-Plank, who had substituted for Hagrid a few times, was a dreadful teacher, with the result that by the time Hagrid waved them off the premises at dusk, he looked quite cheerful.
As they came into the castle, they spotted Cormac McLaggen entering the Great Hall. It took him two attempts to get through the doors; he ricocheted off the frame on the first attempt. Ron merely guffawed gloatingly and strode off into the Hall after him, but Layla caught Hermione's arm and held her back.
"What?" said Hermione defensively.
"If you ask me," said Layla quietly, "McLaggen looks like he was Confunded this morning. And he was standing right in front of where you were sitting."
Hermione blushed.
"Oh, all right then, I did it," she whispered. "But you should have heard the way he was talking about Ron and Ginny! Anyway, he's got a nasty temper, you saw how he reacted when he didn't get in."
"But wasn't that dishonest, 'Mione?" said Layla. "I mean, you're a prefect, aren't you?"
"Oh, be quiet," she snapped, as Layla smirked.
"What are you two doing?" demanded Ron, reappearing in the doorway to the Great Hall with Harry and looking suspicious.
"Nothing," said Hermione at once, but both boys weren't buying it.
"Girl stuff," Layla smirked, knowing that it would make the boys uncomfortable and they'd drop it, which they did.
The four of them had barely taken three steps toward the Gryffindor table when Professor Slughorn appeared in front of them, blocking their path.
"Harry, Harry, just the man I was hoping to see!" he boomed genially, twiddling the ends of his walrus mustache and puffing out his enormous belly, "I was hoping to catch you before dinner! What do you say to a spot of supper tonight in my rooms instead? We're having a little party, just a few rising stars, I've got McLaggen coming and Zabini, the charming Melinda Bobbin — I don't know whether you know her? Her family owns a large chain of apothecaries — and, of course, I hope very much that both Miss Lupin and Miss Granger will favor me by coming too."
Slughorn made Layla and Hermione a little bow as he finished speaking. It was as though Ron was not present; Slughorn did not so much as look at him.
"I can't come, Professor," said Harry at once. "I've got a detention with Professor Snape."
"Oh dear!" said Slughorn, his face falling comically. "Dear, dear, I was counting on you, Harry! Well, now, I'll just have to have a word with Severus and explain the situation. I'm sure I'll be able to persuade him to postpone your detention. Yes, I'll see you three later!" He bustled away out of the Hall.
"He's got no chance of persuading Snape," said Harry, the moment Slughorn was out of earshot. "This detention's already been postponed once; Snape did it for Dumbledore, but he won't do it for anyone else."
After dinner, they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower. The common room was very crowded, as most people had finished dinner by now, but they managed to find a free table and sat down; Ron, who had been in a bad mood ever since the encounter with Slughorn, folded his arms and frowned at the ceiling. Hermione reached out for a copy of the Evening Prophet, which somebody had left abandoned on a chair.
"Anything new?" said Layla.
"Not really..." Hermione had opened the newspaper and was scanning the inside pages. "Oh, look, your dad's in here, Ron — he's all right!" she added quickly, for Ron had looked around in alarm. "It just says he's been to visit the Malfoys' house. 'This second search of the Death Eaters residence does not seem to have yielded any results. Arthur Weasley of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects said that his team had been acting upon a confidential tip-off.'"
"Yeah, mine!" said Harry. "I told him at King's Cross about Malfoy and that thing he was trying to get Borgin to fix! Well, if it's not at their house, he must have brought whatever it is to Hogwarts with him—"
"But how can he have done, Harry?" said Hermione, putting down the newspaper with a surprised look. "We were all searched when we arrived, weren't we?"
"Were you?" said Harry, taken aback. "I wasn't!"
"Oh no, of course you weren't, I forgot you were late. Well, Filch ran over all of us with Secrecy Sensors when we got into the entrance hall. Any Dark object would have been found, I know for a fact Crabbe had a shrunken head confiscated. So you see, Malfoy can't have brought in anything dangerous!"
"Someone's sent it to him by owl, then," Harry said. "His mother or someone."
"All the owls are being checked, too," said Layla. "Filch told us so when he was jabbing those Secrecy Sensors everywhere he could reach."
"Can you think of any way Malfoy—?"
"Oh, drop it, Harry," said Ron.
"Listen, it's not my fault Slughorn invited Hermione, Lays, and me to his stupid party, neither of us wanted to go, you know!" said Harry, firing up.
"Well, as I'm not invited to any parties," said Ron, getting to his feet again, "I think I'll go to bed."
He stomped off toward the door to the boys' dormitories, leaving Harry, Layla, and Hermione staring after him.
"Okay, on that note, I think I'm gonna chill upstairs for a bit," said Layla, standing up. "See you guys at Slughorn's dinner."
But as Layla headed towards the girls' staircase, she saw a familiar face coming down the boys' one.
"Hey, Dean," Layla smiled at her boyfriend. "So, I made the team! Harry says I'm getting even better."
"Yep," Dean muttered, barely looking at her. "I'm hungry. See you later."
"Wait," said Layla, stopping Dean from leaving, "that's it? Dean, I'm so excited about another year of Quidditch. You know how much I love it, and I haven't even gotten so much as a 'congratulations' or 'well done' from my own boyfriend."
"All right, I'm sorry," Dean replied. "Congratulations. I'm starving. I'm going downstairs." With that, he turned and headed out the portrait hole. Layla blinked once, blinked twice, and then quickly hurried after him.
Out in the corridor, she caught up to him.
"That's it?" she repeated. "That's all you have to say? You've been off sulking all day."
"Look," Dean said, gritting his teeth. "I apologize. I'm sorry. I'll get over it by tomorrow, I will. I'm just annoyed right now."
"You're annoyed?" she shot back.
"Yeah, a bit," he replied, his own voice raising up itself. "I could've been playing if Ginny didn't try out."
"What's Ginny got to do with this?"
"Well, we all know you see Ginny as your sister, and Harry is your best friend. He clearly only let her on the team for you," said Dean. "If it wasn't for her, I probably would have made the team."
"Oh, so now it's my fault you didn't make the team? Just fly better next time!"
"I'm better than Seamus, which when you consider I grew up Muggle, is a pretty damn sight respectable, you know?"
"Harry grew up Muggle, too," Layla coolly countered, "and he's better than both of you."
"Right. Harry..." Dean rolled his eyes. "Got it. I just thought we'd be on the team together, that's all. I thought that would be nice."
To that, Layla had no response. She was still angry, but he was right, she supposed. It would have been nice.
"Right. Well," Dean offered, but at the moment there seemed to be nothing more to say. "I'll be over it tomorrow." And then he was gone.
Layla stood by herself in the corridor, still fuming, her earlier happiness over the events of the day draining away. Truth be told, beneath her annoyance, she was starting to feel some pangs of guilt. She had spent the day laughing and celebrating, completely oblivious to the fact that her boyfriend was so upset.
"It's not like I knew where he was to go comfort him or anything," she muttered to herself. "And it's not my fault Ginny is better than him. It had nothing to do with special treatment. She deserves to be a Chaser."
Still, she could not fight down those feelings of guilt completely, which in turn annoyed her even more.