Stalking Harry
I wrote this for 2010 Glompfest :)
Stalking Harry, Part One
"I don’t understand why you won’t give it another go with Ginny,” Ron complained. “You two made a great couple - and she misses you!”
Harry sighed, letting the end of his broom droop and drag along the ground as they walked toward the castle from the Quidditch pitch. Even though 8th years weren’t allowed to officially play, Harry had started a couple of impromptu games in the weeks since school started up again. They’d got some good interest, though he’d yet to see any Slytherins show up. Ron elbowed him, getting his attention.
“I’m not interested in Ginny, mate. Not like that. She’s too much like a sister,” he added, hoping it would be enough to keep Ron off the topic for a bit.
“But she’s not your sister!” Ron said.
Harry sighed. No such luck. “Seriously, I’m just not interested in her like that.”
Ron grabbed his arm, yanking him to a stop. “Harry, she’s madly in love with you. And I’m the one she keeps coming to about it. She wants to me to talk to you - to convince you that she’s the one.”
Harry looked up into his friend’s desperate eyes. “I’ll talk to her. Okay? I’ll try to be gentle.” He wondered if he was going to have to be blunt this time - it wasn’t only that Ginny was like a sister. When he’d gone all the way through the war without even missing her that much - and when glimpses of a certain blond spy caused heat to pool in his stomach - Harry’d realised that it was the girl thing more than the sister thing. But he hadn’t told anyone that yet, not even Hermione, and certainly not Ron.
“You’re not going out with anyone else, are you?” Ron asked, letting go. “I mean, that would be hard for her, but it might also make it easier to talk about - if there’s someone else, I mean.”
Harry looked closer. Did Ron mean -? No, he couldn’t possibly know. No one knew. He shrugged. “I’m not seeing anyone, Ron. When would I have time?”
Ron sighed. “Okay. Just thought I’d ask. ‘Cause you know I’ll support you, no matter what, right?” He sounded hopeful, and Harry had to wonder again if he suspected something.
Just then, a flash of blond hair caught Harry’s eye, and he jumped. “Malfoy!” he called, knowing it had to be him.
The running boy stopped. “What?” he yelled back, standing between them and the Forbidden Forest.
Harry hesitated then jogged over to him,with Ron trailing behind and muttering under his breath. “What you are you doing? Why didn’t you come to the Quidditch game? I posted the time on your door.” He was babbling, but he couldn’t seem to stop.
Malfoy gave a slight smile, which vanished as Ron joined them and glared at him. Harry sighed. Malfoy had switched sides after the mess with Dumbledore and the Astronomy Tower, choosing to spy with Snape rather than support Voldemort. It was because of him that Hogwarts had been prepared for the final battle, and Harry had no doubt that he’d defeated Voldemort in part because of Malfoy’s work with the other students - who’d fought and weakened the Death Eaters and Voldemort before Harry did his thing.
Ron knew this too, but he claimed that it didn’t change the rivalry between the Weasleys and the Malfoys. “Malfoy,” he said now, disgust in his voice.
“Ron,” Harry said, trying to get his friend to back off. “Can we just have a pleasant conversation?”
Malfoy shook his head. “I think it’s a lost cause,” he muttered, looking strangely disappointed.
“Why didn’t you fly with us?” Harry asked, as Malfoy began to edge away. “It would be more fun if you joined us.”
Ron looked shocked. “It’s fine -”
Harry elbowed him, shutting him up, and looked at Malfoy. “So?”
“I don’t do much flying these days, Potter,” Malfoy said. “Plus, I’m busy with my apprenticeship for Professor Snape.”
Harry nodded, resigned. Malfoy had saved Snape’s life, and in return, Snape had promised to help him become the youngest potions master in over a century. “Well, if you ever do have time - wait. Why are you out here now?”
To his surprise, a slow blush rose in Malfoy’s cheeks. Harry tried not to notice how sexy it was. Malfoy swallowed and said, “I was, um, just -”
Ron rolled his eyes. “Super-secret potion ingredients, we get it.” He snorted. “I swear, Snape makes it sound like everything you two work on is top secret.”
Harry watched Malfoy, wondering at the flicker of relief in his grey eyes when Ron spoke. “Right.” He laughed, though it sounded a little off. “Potions stuff.”
There was an awkward moment, and then Malfoy nodded. “Well, I guess I’ll be off then.”
“Do you want some help?” Harry blurted.
Malfoy froze - and so did Ron. Unfortunately, Ron’s shock only lasted a second. “What?” He punched Harry in the shoulder. “You were just complaining about all the work you have to do and how the game lasted too long. What’s wrong with you?”
Oh, right. Harry forgot the excuses he’d given when Ron wanted to go into Hogsmeade for a butterbeer - something only the 8th years could do. “Oh.” Harry gave Malfoy a tiny smile. “Sorry. See you at dinner then?”
“Sure,” Malfoy said, sounding just as lacklustre as Harry. He turned back toward the Forest, and Harry joined Ron in heading to the castle.
“What was that about?” Ron asked, when they’d showered. “Why are you always trying so hard with him?”
“It wasn’t easy, doing what he did,” Harry said. “He deserves our respect.”
Ron laughed and threw his wet towel at Harry, hitting him in the chest. “Whatever! He’s still a pointy git, no matter what he did. Come on - let’s go back to what you’re going to say to Ginny.”
“Right.” Harry tried to muster up the enthusiasm, but he only felt vaguely… lonely.
Later that night, Malfoy didn’t show for dinner, and Harry tried to pretend he didn’t care. He and Ron went to their room, and Harry made a show of searching for his Transfiguration textbook, looking instead for the Marauder’s Map. “Hey,” he said, after a couple of minutes’ search. “Did you borrow the map?”
Ron frowned. “Why would I do that? I know you don’t like people playing with that. It’s your map, mate.”
“It’s not here, though. Do you think Hermione might have taken it?”
Ron snorted. “When? Hermione barely leaves her room or the library for anything other than lessons. Besides, she hasn’t been in our room since school started.”
Harry winced at the bitterness in Ron’s voice. It was true - Hermione had taken their opportunity for an extra year of school to make up for the previous year very seriously. She studied all the time, wanting to give herself the choice of as many NEWTs as possible. The relationship between her and Ron seemed to have stagnated, at best.
“Sorry,” Harry muttered. He looked through his trunk again, but no map. He tried to put it aside, not wanting Ron to wonder why he wanted it.
“When’s the last time you saw it?” Ron asked, shifting his weight. Harry could tell he didn’t want to talk about Hermione any more.
“I don’t know. It’s been a week, at least.” Harry shrugged. “Never mind. I’m sure it’ll turn up.” It wasn’t that big a deal, now that Voldemort was gone. It wasn’t like a Death Eater would get it and use it to kill someone. “I should probably ask Remus - maybe he grabbed it when he was here yesterday.”
They returned to the 8th years’ lounge, and, like he always did, Harry did a quick look-around to see if Malfoy was there. He wasn’t. Harry dropped onto one of the sofas, wishing he didn’t feel so restless. Ron didn’t seem much better, crossing his legs, then uncrossing them, and finally getting up and pacing a bit. The portrait opened, and Harry sat up, hoping to see Malfoy - but it was Ginny and Luna following Dean. Ginny sent Harry a brilliant smile, and Harry managed to smile back. To his relief, Luna came over and sat next to him, putting her hand on his knee.
“How are you, Harry?” she asked, tilting her head a bit in that Luna way of hers.
“I’m okay.”
She smiled, and the sympathy and understanding in her pale blue eyes surprised and warmed him. “I don’t think the situation is as bad as you think it is,” she said calmly. “In fact, I think the feelings on both sides are mutual - but you’re going to need to be willing to take the next step.”
Ron stopped his pacing, staring at Luna. “What are you on about?” he asked.
She looked up at him. “I think you’ve got taller,” she said. “It’s very becoming. Perhaps your size will eventually match your heart.”
Ron blushed, and Harry sat up straighter, intrigued by Ron’s reaction. “Because Ron has a huge heart,” he said, slowly catching on. It had been a long time since Hermione last spent time with Ron. Harry wondered if it was time for Ron to move on.
Luna nodded. “Oh, yes. He always has. But he lets himself get embarrassed by his sensitivity - that’s why he sometimes lashes out and says unkind things.”
Ron dropped to the sofa next to Luna and Harry, his head in his hands. Harry couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or upset. “He hasn’t said anything unkind in a long time,” Harry said, sticking up for his friend.
Luna smiled. “I know. But he still has the urges, I think. I just wanted him to realise that not everyone expects that from him. He’s still very manly even with his sensitivity.”
“Bloody hell,” Ron muttered into his hands.
Harry grinned. “You know, Luna, Ron could use a little help in Charms. Maybe you could work together?”
Ron lifted his head, a mixture of fear and hope on his face. Luna looked at him, meeting his blue eyes calmly. “If you’d like to work together, I think it would be fun,” she said finally.
Ron opened his mouth; closed it. He managed a nod. Luna smiled. “We can start now, if you’d like?”
“Sure,” he managed, sending Harry a confused look as Luna got up. Harry gestured after her, and Ron jumped up. Then he turned back. “What about you?”
“I’m fine,” Harry said. Truth was, with the two of them being roommates, and with everyone being clingier after the losses last spring, Harry seldom got to be alone. He leaned his head back on the couch, enjoying the relative quiet.
“Hello, Harry,” Ginny said.
Harry opened his eyes. “Er, hi,” he said. Shit! He so didn’t want this now. He jumped to his feet. “I need to go and, erm, find my books,” he said, knowing it sounded like the excuse it was. Ginny’s face fell, but he pretended not to notice. “See you later, Gin!”
He rushed back to his room, collapsing against the door. “What the hell?” he said to the silent room. “Why can’t I ever be alone?” He wished he could find his map, so he could look for a place to have some peace and quiet. Instead, he grabbed his cloak. Then, moving as silently as possible, he slipped through the lounge, where Ginny was currently crying on Dean’s shoulder, and waited for someone - anyone - to come through the portrait. Too many people knew about his cloak these days; they’d all know it was him if he just opened the portrait on his own, and then Ginny would probably want to talk more.
Finally, after five or six minutes, Seamus came in, hand in hand with Lavender. Harry moved past them, wishing he could yell his relief as he jogged down the empty corridor. Without his map, he’d just have to guess at a likely spot. After some wandering, he ended up in the section a couple of floors above where Fluffy had watched the Stone. This part of the castle had been damaged in the battle, and although most of it had been fixed that summer, it was still off-limits. Which didn’t stop Harry, of course.
He sat in a dusty classroom, with desks piled against the walls. They looked old-fashioned, and he wondered how long it had been since anyone had used this part of the castle. Had there been more students in years past? Harry drew in the dust on the floor with his finger. The room had a haunted feel, but Harry didn’t mind. The quiet was so deep, he almost felt like he was in a different world.
After a bit, he lay back, using his cloak as a pillow. He stared at the dim ceiling, wondering about his life. Remus had already offered to share Grimmauld Place with Harry after school ended. Harry hadn’t wanted Grimmauld after Sirius’ death. He wasn’t sure what to think about Remus’s offer. He loved Remus - and the two had become close during the war, especially after Remus broke up with Tonks. She’d wanted marriage, and Remus told Harry he just didn’t love her like that.
But Harry suspected there was someone else, even though Remus had never mentioned anyone. He didn’t want to be in the way of Remus’s happiness. “And what of your own happiness?” he whispered into the dry, dusty air. “When will you go after that?”
Stalking Harry, Part One
"I don’t understand why you won’t give it another go with Ginny,” Ron complained. “You two made a great couple - and she misses you!”
Harry sighed, letting the end of his broom droop and drag along the ground as they walked toward the castle from the Quidditch pitch. Even though 8th years weren’t allowed to officially play, Harry had started a couple of impromptu games in the weeks since school started up again. They’d got some good interest, though he’d yet to see any Slytherins show up. Ron elbowed him, getting his attention.
“I’m not interested in Ginny, mate. Not like that. She’s too much like a sister,” he added, hoping it would be enough to keep Ron off the topic for a bit.
“But she’s not your sister!” Ron said.
Harry sighed. No such luck. “Seriously, I’m just not interested in her like that.”
Ron grabbed his arm, yanking him to a stop. “Harry, she’s madly in love with you. And I’m the one she keeps coming to about it. She wants to me to talk to you - to convince you that she’s the one.”
Harry looked up into his friend’s desperate eyes. “I’ll talk to her. Okay? I’ll try to be gentle.” He wondered if he was going to have to be blunt this time - it wasn’t only that Ginny was like a sister. When he’d gone all the way through the war without even missing her that much - and when glimpses of a certain blond spy caused heat to pool in his stomach - Harry’d realised that it was the girl thing more than the sister thing. But he hadn’t told anyone that yet, not even Hermione, and certainly not Ron.
“You’re not going out with anyone else, are you?” Ron asked, letting go. “I mean, that would be hard for her, but it might also make it easier to talk about - if there’s someone else, I mean.”
Harry looked closer. Did Ron mean -? No, he couldn’t possibly know. No one knew. He shrugged. “I’m not seeing anyone, Ron. When would I have time?”
Ron sighed. “Okay. Just thought I’d ask. ‘Cause you know I’ll support you, no matter what, right?” He sounded hopeful, and Harry had to wonder again if he suspected something.
Just then, a flash of blond hair caught Harry’s eye, and he jumped. “Malfoy!” he called, knowing it had to be him.
The running boy stopped. “What?” he yelled back, standing between them and the Forbidden Forest.
Harry hesitated then jogged over to him,with Ron trailing behind and muttering under his breath. “What you are you doing? Why didn’t you come to the Quidditch game? I posted the time on your door.” He was babbling, but he couldn’t seem to stop.
Malfoy gave a slight smile, which vanished as Ron joined them and glared at him. Harry sighed. Malfoy had switched sides after the mess with Dumbledore and the Astronomy Tower, choosing to spy with Snape rather than support Voldemort. It was because of him that Hogwarts had been prepared for the final battle, and Harry had no doubt that he’d defeated Voldemort in part because of Malfoy’s work with the other students - who’d fought and weakened the Death Eaters and Voldemort before Harry did his thing.
Ron knew this too, but he claimed that it didn’t change the rivalry between the Weasleys and the Malfoys. “Malfoy,” he said now, disgust in his voice.
“Ron,” Harry said, trying to get his friend to back off. “Can we just have a pleasant conversation?”
Malfoy shook his head. “I think it’s a lost cause,” he muttered, looking strangely disappointed.
“Why didn’t you fly with us?” Harry asked, as Malfoy began to edge away. “It would be more fun if you joined us.”
Ron looked shocked. “It’s fine -”
Harry elbowed him, shutting him up, and looked at Malfoy. “So?”
“I don’t do much flying these days, Potter,” Malfoy said. “Plus, I’m busy with my apprenticeship for Professor Snape.”
Harry nodded, resigned. Malfoy had saved Snape’s life, and in return, Snape had promised to help him become the youngest potions master in over a century. “Well, if you ever do have time - wait. Why are you out here now?”
To his surprise, a slow blush rose in Malfoy’s cheeks. Harry tried not to notice how sexy it was. Malfoy swallowed and said, “I was, um, just -”
Ron rolled his eyes. “Super-secret potion ingredients, we get it.” He snorted. “I swear, Snape makes it sound like everything you two work on is top secret.”
Harry watched Malfoy, wondering at the flicker of relief in his grey eyes when Ron spoke. “Right.” He laughed, though it sounded a little off. “Potions stuff.”
There was an awkward moment, and then Malfoy nodded. “Well, I guess I’ll be off then.”
“Do you want some help?” Harry blurted.
Malfoy froze - and so did Ron. Unfortunately, Ron’s shock only lasted a second. “What?” He punched Harry in the shoulder. “You were just complaining about all the work you have to do and how the game lasted too long. What’s wrong with you?”
Oh, right. Harry forgot the excuses he’d given when Ron wanted to go into Hogsmeade for a butterbeer - something only the 8th years could do. “Oh.” Harry gave Malfoy a tiny smile. “Sorry. See you at dinner then?”
“Sure,” Malfoy said, sounding just as lacklustre as Harry. He turned back toward the Forest, and Harry joined Ron in heading to the castle.
“What was that about?” Ron asked, when they’d showered. “Why are you always trying so hard with him?”
“It wasn’t easy, doing what he did,” Harry said. “He deserves our respect.”
Ron laughed and threw his wet towel at Harry, hitting him in the chest. “Whatever! He’s still a pointy git, no matter what he did. Come on - let’s go back to what you’re going to say to Ginny.”
“Right.” Harry tried to muster up the enthusiasm, but he only felt vaguely… lonely.
Later that night, Malfoy didn’t show for dinner, and Harry tried to pretend he didn’t care. He and Ron went to their room, and Harry made a show of searching for his Transfiguration textbook, looking instead for the Marauder’s Map. “Hey,” he said, after a couple of minutes’ search. “Did you borrow the map?”
Ron frowned. “Why would I do that? I know you don’t like people playing with that. It’s your map, mate.”
“It’s not here, though. Do you think Hermione might have taken it?”
Ron snorted. “When? Hermione barely leaves her room or the library for anything other than lessons. Besides, she hasn’t been in our room since school started.”
Harry winced at the bitterness in Ron’s voice. It was true - Hermione had taken their opportunity for an extra year of school to make up for the previous year very seriously. She studied all the time, wanting to give herself the choice of as many NEWTs as possible. The relationship between her and Ron seemed to have stagnated, at best.
“Sorry,” Harry muttered. He looked through his trunk again, but no map. He tried to put it aside, not wanting Ron to wonder why he wanted it.
“When’s the last time you saw it?” Ron asked, shifting his weight. Harry could tell he didn’t want to talk about Hermione any more.
“I don’t know. It’s been a week, at least.” Harry shrugged. “Never mind. I’m sure it’ll turn up.” It wasn’t that big a deal, now that Voldemort was gone. It wasn’t like a Death Eater would get it and use it to kill someone. “I should probably ask Remus - maybe he grabbed it when he was here yesterday.”
They returned to the 8th years’ lounge, and, like he always did, Harry did a quick look-around to see if Malfoy was there. He wasn’t. Harry dropped onto one of the sofas, wishing he didn’t feel so restless. Ron didn’t seem much better, crossing his legs, then uncrossing them, and finally getting up and pacing a bit. The portrait opened, and Harry sat up, hoping to see Malfoy - but it was Ginny and Luna following Dean. Ginny sent Harry a brilliant smile, and Harry managed to smile back. To his relief, Luna came over and sat next to him, putting her hand on his knee.
“How are you, Harry?” she asked, tilting her head a bit in that Luna way of hers.
“I’m okay.”
She smiled, and the sympathy and understanding in her pale blue eyes surprised and warmed him. “I don’t think the situation is as bad as you think it is,” she said calmly. “In fact, I think the feelings on both sides are mutual - but you’re going to need to be willing to take the next step.”
Ron stopped his pacing, staring at Luna. “What are you on about?” he asked.
She looked up at him. “I think you’ve got taller,” she said. “It’s very becoming. Perhaps your size will eventually match your heart.”
Ron blushed, and Harry sat up straighter, intrigued by Ron’s reaction. “Because Ron has a huge heart,” he said, slowly catching on. It had been a long time since Hermione last spent time with Ron. Harry wondered if it was time for Ron to move on.
Luna nodded. “Oh, yes. He always has. But he lets himself get embarrassed by his sensitivity - that’s why he sometimes lashes out and says unkind things.”
Ron dropped to the sofa next to Luna and Harry, his head in his hands. Harry couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or upset. “He hasn’t said anything unkind in a long time,” Harry said, sticking up for his friend.
Luna smiled. “I know. But he still has the urges, I think. I just wanted him to realise that not everyone expects that from him. He’s still very manly even with his sensitivity.”
“Bloody hell,” Ron muttered into his hands.
Harry grinned. “You know, Luna, Ron could use a little help in Charms. Maybe you could work together?”
Ron lifted his head, a mixture of fear and hope on his face. Luna looked at him, meeting his blue eyes calmly. “If you’d like to work together, I think it would be fun,” she said finally.
Ron opened his mouth; closed it. He managed a nod. Luna smiled. “We can start now, if you’d like?”
“Sure,” he managed, sending Harry a confused look as Luna got up. Harry gestured after her, and Ron jumped up. Then he turned back. “What about you?”
“I’m fine,” Harry said. Truth was, with the two of them being roommates, and with everyone being clingier after the losses last spring, Harry seldom got to be alone. He leaned his head back on the couch, enjoying the relative quiet.
“Hello, Harry,” Ginny said.
Harry opened his eyes. “Er, hi,” he said. Shit! He so didn’t want this now. He jumped to his feet. “I need to go and, erm, find my books,” he said, knowing it sounded like the excuse it was. Ginny’s face fell, but he pretended not to notice. “See you later, Gin!”
He rushed back to his room, collapsing against the door. “What the hell?” he said to the silent room. “Why can’t I ever be alone?” He wished he could find his map, so he could look for a place to have some peace and quiet. Instead, he grabbed his cloak. Then, moving as silently as possible, he slipped through the lounge, where Ginny was currently crying on Dean’s shoulder, and waited for someone - anyone - to come through the portrait. Too many people knew about his cloak these days; they’d all know it was him if he just opened the portrait on his own, and then Ginny would probably want to talk more.
Finally, after five or six minutes, Seamus came in, hand in hand with Lavender. Harry moved past them, wishing he could yell his relief as he jogged down the empty corridor. Without his map, he’d just have to guess at a likely spot. After some wandering, he ended up in the section a couple of floors above where Fluffy had watched the Stone. This part of the castle had been damaged in the battle, and although most of it had been fixed that summer, it was still off-limits. Which didn’t stop Harry, of course.
He sat in a dusty classroom, with desks piled against the walls. They looked old-fashioned, and he wondered how long it had been since anyone had used this part of the castle. Had there been more students in years past? Harry drew in the dust on the floor with his finger. The room had a haunted feel, but Harry didn’t mind. The quiet was so deep, he almost felt like he was in a different world.
After a bit, he lay back, using his cloak as a pillow. He stared at the dim ceiling, wondering about his life. Remus had already offered to share Grimmauld Place with Harry after school ended. Harry hadn’t wanted Grimmauld after Sirius’ death. He wasn’t sure what to think about Remus’s offer. He loved Remus - and the two had become close during the war, especially after Remus broke up with Tonks. She’d wanted marriage, and Remus told Harry he just didn’t love her like that.
But Harry suspected there was someone else, even though Remus had never mentioned anyone. He didn’t want to be in the way of Remus’s happiness. “And what of your own happiness?” he whispered into the dry, dusty air. “When will you go after that?”