The Argument
Throughout dinner, Hermione and Ron wouldn’t stop asking him what was written on the paper and who it was from. Since there was no incriminating name on the card, he allowed them to read it just so they would stop nagging him.
Hermione immediately went into worried mode.
“You’re not going to wear those clothes, right?” Hermione asked.
“Why not?” He answered defiantly.
Even if Harry still wasn’t sure he was actually going to wear the clothes, he didn’t like her making the decision for him. She didn’t know who it was from, so she had no reason to be suspicious anyway.
“Seriously, Harry? You receive a strange package with no signature from an unknown sender, brought by a rare bird, and you don’t worry about it? They could have bad intentions. It’s like third year all over again, with the broom from Sirius. What if someone put a curse on it to hurt you.”
There it was again. If he listened to Hermione, everything would have a curse on it. It could really happen someday of course, but he was tired of being afraid. Most of the death eaters had been captured days after Voldemort’s failed resurrection anyway. Their arms had burned where the mark used to be, which made identifying them much easier.
Some people had tried to get Lucius Malfoy arrested but they found his arm as white as snow. How he had managed that was a mystery. Some said he never got it in the first place, but the Order members thought he might have found a way to remove the mark, even if they couldn’t get any definitive proof.
Anyway, he was pretty sure Malfoy had just sent the clothes to mock him and not to hurt him. He was 80% sure it was safe, but of course he couldn’t really tell Hermione that without revealing he knew who the gift was from.
“I’m pretty sure Hogwarts has wards that block harmful mail before it enters the castle, Hermione.” He explained, a bit exasperated.
Hermione crossed her arms, “Yes, but what about poison?” she tried again.
“We would all be dying by now, since we’ve all touched the card.”
“It could be on the clothes. Something that goes through your skin.”
He sighed deeply, there really was no winning with her.
“Fine, then I’ll go ask professor Flitwick if he can look at it, and see if there is anything harmful.” Harry offered.
“What about Professor Dumbledore? I’m sure he knows a lot more about curses and poisons. If you want I can get these to his office?” she asked eagerly, almost already on her feet.
He tried not to frown. He actually wanted to go see Professor Flitwick because he knew he wouldn’t ask too many questions. But with Mcgonagall or the Headmaster, they were sure to be suspicious. They would interrogate him, and then they would take away the clothes for being too dangerous, without listening to him.
Harry was feeling torned. On one hand, he really didn’t want to give Malfoy senior the satisfaction of wearing the stuff he had bought for him. It was humiliating to admit he was so desperate for new clothes that he would accept the gift of an ex death eater.
He could throw it away of course, but he didn’t like to be wasteful. He supposed donating it might be the right choice, but…
But on the other hand, he had never been one to pass up a good opportunity. Life at the Dursley had teached him that every scrap could be useful. If he wanted to save enough money for his future, he couldn't be picky, even if the gift was done to shame him. And the shirts were such good quality, he was sure they would feel amazing. He would probably never see Malfoy senior again anyway, so what was the harm in keeping them, right?
And so what if keeping a gift from his new crush was making him a little hot under the collar?
“I’d rather not. I wouldn’t want to bother him with something like that.” he tried to convince Hermione.
Harry had an inkling that Dumbledore already knew who the parcel was from anyway. He had seen the look on his face when the bird had landed in front of him. He had recognized it. The Headmaster had a phoenix after all, which meant he probably knew a lot about rare magic birds, and who owned them.
Harry was certain the Headmaster would call him to his office soon enough to discuss the gift, so he had to be quick in getting it cleared by the charm professor.
He glanced at the front table to see if Professor Flitwick was still eating, but he found his seat vacant. The professor was probably in his office starting to prepare his class for the next day. Now would be the perfect time to go.
Harry put the last of his food in his mouth and stood up.
“Actually, now that you told me about it, I agree that I should get it checked as soon as possible. I’m going to see Professor Flitwick right now.”
He didn’t let his friends say another word before taking the package and hurriedly leaving the dining hall, hearing a faint “Harry!” from the table.
He stopped in front of the Professor’s office and knocked on the door. A familiar voice answered him from inside the room.
"Yes? Enter."
The Professor looked at him in surprise, probably not used to seeing a student come to him after hours.
"Mr Potter! What a pleasant surprise ! Do come in," the man said in a joyful tone, "What can I do for you? Did you have any trouble in class?"
"No, I didn't have any problem with the lesson. It's about a personnel problem. I've actually come to ask if you could look at something for me," Harry started hesitantly, clutching the parcel in his arms.
"Look at something ?" Flitwick questioned with confusion.
"Well, you see, I've received this package at dinner, unsigned and it's not from anyone I know. It's just clothes really, and I'm aware that the castle's wards stop harmful mail from going though, but I thought you might check it over for anything dangerous, just to be sure."
"Oh how intriguing! Perhaps a gift from a secret admirer? Let me see."
Harry tried not to snort with laughter at the suggestion, as he gave him the package with the card.
"Well, well. It looks like someone appreciates you very much, my boy. These are some fine clothes! Now let's run a few basic detection spells on these, then we'll try more thorough ones," the professor said with excitement at the challenge.
Harry looked in curiosity as the professor casted spells after spells, some he knew or had heard about, and some that sounded like gibberish to him. After a while he tried more complicated spells. The professor had sweat starting to gather on his forehead but nothing happened.
"It seems my spells have not detected anything harmful, Mr Potter. I'm happy to say it is quite safe for you to wear them!" He said happily.
Harry let out a small sigh of relief, "Thank you so much Professor."
"Is there something else I can do for you?"
"No, that's all."
"Oh before I forget! I think it would be useful for you to have this".
The professor took a book from his shelf and gave it to him.
"It's a book about detection spells. That way you can make sure your belongings have not been tampered with."
"Thank you professor. I'll be sure to study it very hard." Harry answered with genuine delight. Now, Hermione would have no reason to pester him at every opportunity if he could check his things himself.
Harry returned to the dorm to prepare for class, hoping to avoid his friends but he wasn’t so lucky. Hermione immediately jumped at him as he entered the common room.
“So, what did he say? Did he find anything awful? What does he think about the gift and the card? Are you sure he casted the spells properly?” she asked in quick succession.
“Wow, okay calm down a bit Hermione, take a deep breath.”
She huffed, “Harry! Don’t keep me waiting!”
“She’s been like that the whole time!” Ron interjected with annoyance from his place on the couch.
“Alright. He said it was probably from an admirer, and no he didn’t find anything dangerous on the card or the clothes. As for if he casted the spells properly, I’m sure he didn’t get a mastery in charms by pretending to wave his wand around,” Harry answered dryly, “But you’re free to go ask him if you have any doubt he is qualified enough of course…”
Hermione's face turned red in embarrassment at the suggestion.
“No, no, of course I trust him to do a good job. So he really didn’t find anything?”
“Nope, not a single little spell.”
“Oh, well. It’s still strange… I wonder who sent it. An admirer, he said? Who would—? I mean, not that you’re unattractive or anything—It’s just… ugh…” Hermione fumbled, desperately trying to dig herself out of the hole she had just fallen into. But no matter how she rephrased it, it still sounded awful to Harry.
Thanks for the confidence boost… As if his self-esteem wasn’t already low enough.
Ron mumbled under his breath. “...admirer.…not fair…”
“Yeah, well, they’re nice clothes, so I’m going to wear them.”
Hermione still had a frown look on her face, but let it go, for now.
Harry faked a huge yawn.
“I’m totally beat. I think I’ll go to bed early tonight.” he said, making his way to the boy’s dorm. He hoped Neville was in there so he could debrief with him, since the boy had not been present at dinner.
As he walked into the dorm, he saw that the curtains around Neville's bed were drawn. He carefully approached the bed, hoping he wouldn’t be waking up the boy.
“Neville… Neville” he said quietly. Suddenly a head popped out from the curtain.
“Harry! Come in!” Before he could say a word, a hand sprang out from the bed and pulled him inside.
He tumbled on the bed, face planting into a small foot.
“I’m so happy you could join our secret reunion, Harry,” said a familiar dreamy voice.
Harry turned toward the newcomer in bewilderment. “Luna! How did you get here?”
“Neville snuck me in! We have biweekly meetings to discuss the mysteries of the world. Did you know that a significant portion of the Muggle population is actually reptilian creatures disguised with Polyjuice Potion?”
“Really?” Harry asked, skepticism clear in his voice.
“No, of course not,” Luna replied, blinking her wide eyes at him.
Harry chuckled. “It’s honestly hard to tell when you’re joking.”
“We mostly just chat about our lives, classes, and, well… gossip a little,” Neville admitted sheepishly. “Speaking of which, Luna told me a Thunderbird dropped something off for you at dinner. It was important enough for an emergency meeting! So, what was that all about?” Neville asked eagerly.
“That’s actually pretty crazy.”
“Crazier than your infatuation with Lucius Malfoy?” Luna asked.
“It’s connected, actually.”
“What do you mean?” Neville pressed.
“The bird,” he began, pausing just long enough to build suspense, “was from Lucius Malfoy.”
Neville sighed. “Why am I only half surprised? This feels like exactly the kind of bizarre thing that always happens to you. So, what did he send? Noting nefarious, I hope?”
“Just some clothes,” he said, then winced. “Well… about 100 Galleons’ worth of clothes.”
Saying the amount out loud made it sound even more absurd.
“That’s insane,” Neville exclaimed.
Luna tilted her head thoughtfully. “That’s really generous of him. Maybe Mr. Malfoy secretly likes you if he’s willing to spend that much.”
Harry felt his face heat up at the suggestion. He knew it wasn’t possible, they’d only met a handful of times, and most of those encounters had been filled with insults. But still, he couldn’t help but wish it were true.
“Not really,” he said quickly. “I think it was more about humiliating me.”
Neville raised an eyebrow. “How? It’s just clothes.”
“It’s about our meeting in Hogsmeade,” Harry said hesitantly.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to share the embarrassing conversation.
“He made some comments about my clothes, since I was wearing my cousin’s old hand-me-downs. And of course, being the pretentious ass he is, he had to point it out. I’m pretty sure the gift was about that. Here, take a look at the card that came with it.”
They examined the card from every angle, as if it might somehow reveal the sender’s true intentions.
“Well, they’re yours now, no matter what he meant by it,” Luna said matter-of-factly.
“Yeah,” Neville added. “And I recognise the name of the brand. They’re from a high-end designer shop in the rich part of Diagon Alley, so they’re probably great quality. They’ll last you a long time.”
Hearing that reassured Harry that keeping the clothes had been the right choice.
“You’re right,” he admitted. “And just in case, I had Professor Flitwick test them for anything suspicious.”
Neville blinked in surprise. “Really? Why? The castle’s wards would’ve destroyed it if it was dangerous.”
“I know, but Hermione wouldn’t stop nagging me about it. And I have a feeling Dumbledore’s going to summon me to his office any day now to tell me I can’t keep them or something.”
“Is receiving clothes by mail against school rules now?” Luna asked thoughtfully.
“No, but the headmaster likes to keep a close eye on me, what with all the people who’ve tried to kill me,” Harry said dryly.
Luna tilted her head. “Hmm, really? Who?...” Then she smiled. “I’m joking again, by the way. I think I’m getting better at it, right?” she asked hopefully.
Neville gave her a thumbs-up.
“So yeah, that’s everything,” Harry finished. “At least Lucius Malfoy had the decency not to sign his name on the card, or Ron and Hermione would have murdered me.” He shuddered at the thought.
The three of them stayed up chatting until midnight before finally deciding to call it a night.
Lucius was at a meeting at the ministry, and he was utterly bored. The pudgy, sweaty, little man in front of him had been vomiting useless words for an hour but nothing seemed to have an ounce of intelligence.
He could be outside right now, shopping for rare artifacts. The shopkeeper at his favorite antique shop had told him he just had a new arrival straight from Egypt and he couldn’t wait to see it.
He also needed to buy himself a new pair of dragonskin gloves, as his old ones were starting to lose their softness, and he wanted only the best. Speaking of clothes, he wondered how the Potter boy had responded to his gift. He had timed the delivery perfectly so that he would receive it at dinner time around all his classmates. He would have loved to be a little fly on the wall.
How had he looked like? Had he reddened all over? Had he felt too hot, and embarrassed at the idea of Lucius buying him something?
He wondered if he had told his little friends about him, or if he had pretended he didn’t know who it was from. Lucius didn’t know which one he liked best. The shame of the confession, or the shame of the secret.
It had been a couple of weeks now, and the boy had probably forgotten about it. The calm before the storm. Now was the perfect time to strike again.
Harry was feeling happy for once. He spent a lot of his time with Neville and Luna after class and he had never felt as understood as he did now. His relationship with Hermione and Ron was cordial, even if a little distant, and he was having pretty good grades in all of his classes.
Everything was well… Until the morning mail came through.
He was eating breakfast, enjoying the morning silence when the owls came in. Hermione had already left for her morning study, and Ron was half comatose on the table.
Harry was mid-bite into his toast when a flash of gold caught his eye. He froze, dread pooling in his stomach, praying it wasn’t what he thought it was. The scene felt eerily familiar, as the large bird swooped down once again, landing in front of him with a box clutched in its talons.
“Seriously?” Ron exclaimed, eyes locked on the box. He reached out to grab it, but the bird snapped its sharp beak at his fingers, forcing him to yank his hand back with a yelp.
“It bloody bit me!” he cried, clutching his bleeding hand.
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t try to take things that aren’t yours,” Harry said, irritation lacing his voice.
“I was just trying to help!”
“Sure you were,” Harry replied, voice heavy with sarcasm.
With trembling fingers, he carefully took the box and offered the bird a strip of bacon as a token of gratitude, half for delivering the box, and half for biting Ron’s hand. The creature gulped it down greedily before taking off in a blur of feathers.
Before Ron could pester him with questions, Harry stuffed the box deep into his school bag.
“I’ll open it tonight in the dorm,” he said firmly. “Alone.”
“Why not now?” Ron whined.
“So I have time to cast a detection charm on it. Obviously.”
“Whatever.”
The box weighed heavily in his bag all day. He could feel its presence pressing against the fabric, almost burning through it. Every time he reached for a book, his fingers brushed against the smooth surface, sending a jolt of anticipation through him.
He couldn’t recall a single word from his lessons, his mind racing, trying to guess what could be inside the stupid box. The whole thing was utterly ridiculous, but the giddy excitement bubbling under his skin refused to be ignored.
At dinner, he deflected Hermione’s pointed questions and brushed off Ron’s persistent attempts to convince him to open it.
By the time they made it back to the dorm, Ron’s patience had worn thin.
“Alright, we’re inside now, can you please open it?” he grumbled, crossing his arms.
“Did you check for any curses?” Hermione asked, eyeing the box.
“Yes, would you like to check it too, just to be sure?” Harry replied, knowing she wouldn’t feel comfortable until she did it herself. Despite being one of the top students in Charms and Transfiguration, Hermione never fully trusted his spellwork.
She muttered a few incantations, but when nothing happened, her curiosity started to overpower her caution.
“Alright, go ahead,” she said, almost impatiently.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Well, thank you for your blessing.”
He would’ve preferred to do it in private, but it seemed there was no avoiding the audience.
With trembling hands, he carefully unwrapped the box. A wave of excitement bubbled up inside him. He still wasn’t used to receiving gifts.
Inside the package, Harry found a sleek black box containing a luxurious silver quill, several different tips, and a bottle of dark ink. The quill lay on a bed of black velvet, its delicate body crafted from a stunning red feather.
Just like before, there was a small card tucked inside. He carefully unfolded it, and the words were clear:
“My son told me your handwriting was atrocious. I’m sure it was simply because you didn’t have the right instrument. I expect a thank you note from you, I’m certain you won’t disappoint.”
Harry froze in horror. Not because of the words, but because at the bottom of the note was a signature written in elegant script: Lucius Malfoy.
The pompous git had signed it deliberately. He wanted Harry to be caught with it.
Quickly, Harry tried to slip the note into his pocket, but it was too late, Hermione and Ron had already noticed.
“What does it say?” Hermione asked, her curiosity piqued.
“Nothing important,” Harry tried to deflect, but he could tell it wasn’t working. His heart began to race, and his hand grew clammy.
“Why are you acting so weird about it?” Ron asked, his tone laced with suspicion.
“What? I’m not…” Harry’s words faltered as a sheen of sweat formed on his forehead from the mounting stress.
“Is everything okay, Harry? You’re looking kind of pale.”
“I’m fine.”
“Then show me the note,” Ron pressed with insistence.
“No.”
Ron’s face flushed with anger. “Why not? You showed us the last one! You’re hiding something.”
“Leave me alone! If I don’t want to show you, I don’t have to!” Harry snapped with frustration
“Alright, let’s all just calm down,” Hermione interjected, trying to keep the peace.
“Fine, I don’t care about your stupid note anyway,” Ron grumbled, obviously still fuming beside him.
Harry started to relax a little, but as he reached to tuck the paper back into his pocket, Ron suddenly grabbed it from his fingers.
“Hey! Give that back!”
“No chance! I’m reading it,” Ron said with a smirk, holding the paper just out of reach.
“You have no right!” Harry shouted, scrambling to grab it back, but his friend darted to the other side of the couch. By the time Harry reached for his wand, Ron had already started reading the note aloud in a mocking, nasally voice. Thankfully, they were still alone in the common room, the others having rushed off to dinner.
“My son told me your writing was atrocious.” Ron snorted with laughter. “Yeah, they got that right,” he mocked, as if he had any room to talk. “So, it’s from one of our schoolmates’ parents, then…”
He kept reading, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure it was only because you didn’t have the right instrument. I expect a response from you, I’m sure you won’t disappoint?”
Ron scoffed, “Who talks like that, all pompous and stuff, it sounds ridiculous.”
There was a pause before Ron’s face lost all its color, like he was ready to be sick.
“Lucius Malfoy. Lucius fucking Malfoy?!” Ron exploded, while Hermione stood frozen, her mouth hanging open in shock.
“Harry!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with disbelief, as if somehow this whole situation was his fault.
“What? Don’t look at me like that. I don’t know either! It’s not like I’m friends with the man, or Draco, you know that! I have no idea why he sent me these.”
Hermione narrowed her eyes, still skeptical. “Did you know the first gift was from him too?”
“I had my suspicions,” Harry admitted sheepishly. There was no point in lying now that the truth was out.
“How? there was no signature?”Hermione asked with consternation.
“It was referring to a conversation we had.”
Ron glared at him with his fists tight, as if he was ready for a fight. He had crumbled the paper between his fingers.
“Oh, because now you two have conversations?” Ron mocked. Harry didn’t appreciate his tone of voice.
“No, I just ran into him at Hogsmeade,” he answered in frustration.
“Why didn’t you say anything, then?” Hermione asked, voice full of disappointment.
“Because I didn't want you to jump to conclusions and to argue with me. And it seems I was right, just see how you're acting.” He paced back and forth in the common room. His body was full of adrenaline that he needed to evacuate if he didn’t want to end up punching his friend in the face.
“Of course we’re acting like that, it's a MALFOY, a bloody death eater! He hates my family!”
“We’re not sure he’s a death eater though, he doesn't have any dark mark and he hadn’t been seen with Voldemort since at least 20 years. People can change you know.”
“Why are you defending him? Who knows what he does behind the scenes, he’s rotten to the core. You need to throw the gift away before you get hurt!” Ron demanded while starting to walk toward him.
Harry took a step back. “What? No!”
“Harry, he’s right. Now that we know it’s from him, you can’t be certain it's safe. It is obviously a ploy to hurt you somehow, he even asked you to respond. He must have something horrible in mind,” Hermion said worriedly.
“A ploy to hurt me with a quill? How?” He mocked in exasperation.
Hermione frowned at his flippant tone, “I’m being serious.”
“Yeah and you should burn the clothes too while you’re at it.” Ron added.
Harry was sure his friend was enjoying himself. He was too jealous for his own good. If he couldn’t have good things, then neither would Harry.
“Don’t be stupid, I already got them checked by Flitwick. And I can do the same with the quill.”
“No, I don’t trust Professor Flitwick not to miss something. We need to tell Dumbledore. I’m sure he is in his office right now.” Hermione said while starting to walk to the door.
Harry started to panic and he stepped in front of her, blocking her way to the exit. He knew he was on the verge of a panic attack, his heart beating wildly in his chest, sweat gathering on his forehead. As much as he wanted to say he could stand his ground against the Headmaster, the truth was the old man had the power to make his life miserable.
“Can you just calm down for a minute? Please? No need to worry everyone, I’ll just throw it away. Here, happy?” He said desperately, putting the box into the trashcan of the common room. He wanted to cry at the injustice of it all.
It physically hurt him to throw away such a beautiful gift in the trash, but what other choice did he have? He didn’t want the Headmaster to tell the other Professors about Lucius Malfoy sending him gifts. What if Snape told Draco or the other Slytherins? It would be all over the Daily Prophet in no time.
Hermione wasn’t deterred, “We should still tell the Headmaster that you are being threatened.”
“I‘m not being threatened, I'm being given a gift for Merlin’s sake! Just… let’s wait until tomorrow. I’m tired, and I don’t think the Headmaster would like to be disturbed for that kind of thing at this hour.” he said, trying to buy himself more time.
“Bu–” He cut her off.
“Tomorrow. Please?” he pleaded with a defeated look.
“Fine, alright. But I’ll go see him at the first dawn of the morning.”
“I still think you should burn everything he gave you, it’s tainted…” Ron said with disgust.
“And please, don’t tell anyone about it, okay? I don't need someone going to some journal to spin some lies about me.”
“Of course, Harry.” Hermione reassured him.
Ron simply gave him an annoyed look.
He wasn’t sure he could trust the boy to keep his mouth shut, but there was nothing else he could do.
Harry went to bed early, drawing the curtains shut, not feeling like socializing anymore. His mind was tired but his body was still full of energy. He heard the other boys laughing outside his bed and preparing to go to sleep.
Finally, there was silence.
He turned and turned in his bed, rehearsing the earlier conversation in his head, thinking about what he could have said to defend himself. How he wished he had had the balls to stand his ground and not throw the gift away. He really was pathetic just like his uncle said.
He felt dejected and bitter. For once, something good had come his way, even if it was under a false pretense. He thought about the beautiful feather, sitting alone under trash. He imagined the elves coming the following day to take it away to who knows where to be destroyed. It made tears gather in his eyes.
He also remembered that Lucius Malfoy was waiting for a response. What if he came to see him in person when he didn’t receive it. Everyone would know they had been in correspondence. There would be so many rumors. Harry suddenly felt anxiety fill his body.
Couldn’t his friends just trust him for once?
Anxiety was soon replaced with anger. His friends had no right to dictate what he could and couldn’t do, he was not a child! He had fought Death Eaters and the Dark Lord, he didn’t need their misplaced protection and jealousy. The gift was HIS, he had a right to keep it. Neville and Luna wouldn’t have reacted like that.
He longed to have his friends reassure him, but the boy was already asleep and Luna was in another dorm.
He could just go and get the quill back from the trash, right? It was his after all… It wasn’t like he was doing anything bad, so why did it feel like he was getting ready to steal?
After another hour of anxiously thinking about it, he finally gathered his courage and got out of bed, tiptoeing around the beds on bare feet. He could hear Ron snoring behind his curtains as he slowly and carefully opened the door leading to the common room.
Harry walked in silence to the bin, hoping no one had noticed the quill and took it for themself.
Thankfully, the box was still there, unharmed. He gently took it and put it inside his pajama just in case he ran into someone. He quickly got back to his bed, deflating with relief. The retrieve operation had been a success.
He put the box on his chest and pulled the quill out, reverently touching the feather. He would need to practice secretly after class if he wanted to be able to send back a response that didn't look too embarrassing.
Tightly clutching the box in his arms, he finally managed to fall asleep.
Harry briefly woke up in the middle of the night, hearing some noise outside his curtain. He paid it no mind, thinking it was probably one of his classmates going to the toilet, and went back to sleep.
The next morning, Harry woke up refreshed and happy with himself. He hid the quill box under his pillow, and got out of bed to prepare for the day. He noticed that Ron’s bed was strangely empty, even though the boy rarely woke up earlier than him.
Walking into the common room, the first thing that met him was the angry red face of Ron. It seemed the boy had been waiting for him.
“Are you fucking serious?”Ron said, coming into his personal space.
Harry took a step back in shock, “What do you mean?”
“You know perfectly well what I mean. You took the box back!” Harry felt spit on his face.
“What? No…” Harry answered awkwardly.
“I know you did, it's not there anymore.”
“Yeah, well, the elves must have taken it away this morning or perhaps someone from the dorm?”
“Don’t take me for an idiot, I know you took it, I checked after you went to bed.” Ron blurted at him. As soon as the word passed his mouth, he seemed to regret it.
“What?” Harry asked dumbfounded.
When did the boy have time to do that? Harry suddenly remembered the sound he had heard in the middle of the night.
“Why would you wake up in the middle of the night to go check on it?” he asked, baffled and confused.
Ron reddened and went silent, not looking at him. “I just went to the bathroom and I checked on my way. Just in case.” the boy lied through his teeth.
The boy looked ashamed and wouldn’t meet his eyes. A thought popped into Harry’s head. Had Ron planned to…? Surely not?
“In case what? Did you wake up so you could take it back… for yourself?” Harry asked in stupefaction.
“What? No. That’s ridiculous!” Ron protested, but he made that weird hand gesture he always did when he was lying.
“You really did, oh my god! After all this talk about it being dangerous, you actually went in the middle of the night to try and get it! What were you going to do with it? I doubt you were going to use it, so it was probably to sell it? I bet it’s worth a lot of money!” Harry hissed in anger and indignation. He couldn’t believe his ears.
“Don’t talk down on me like that. So what if I did? You weren’t going to use it anyway. And I know you wouldn’t understand, but we’re not all rich like you!” Ron looked ready to explode, his face nearly purple like his uncle often was.
The nerve of him.
“I was going to use it! But you ganged up on me to force me to throw it away! I have a right to get it back, it’s mine.”
Ron glared at him. “So you admit you kept it then,” he hissed between his teeth.
“So what if I did?” Harry answered with a confidence he didn’t feel.
“What’s going on here? I could hear you yelling from the other side!” Neville said, entering the common room. Harry had never felt as happy to see him.
“Don’t worry Neville, simply a little disagreement, but we’re done now.” he said with an air of finality, using Ron’s surprise to get away.
Ron opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to relent.
“Fine. But, I'm going to tell Hermione. And she’ll tell Dumbledore and he’ll confiscate it from you,” Ron said petulantly.
“Go on then, go run to her. You’re so childish, it’s a wonder you can function without her needing to tell you what to do,” he spat back.
Harry rarely got mean when he was angry, but the boy was making him so mad and he was slowly reaching his breaking point.
Ron blushed in shame before running away from the room, stomping his feet like a Hippogriff. No doubt the boy was probably on his way to the Headmaster himself.
Harry gave a big sigh and slouched down on the couch, putting his head in his hands. Was Ron going to tell the whole school now?
“You’re good, Harry?” Nevilel asked him worriedly.
“Yeah, it’s just… You missed a whole lot yesterday. I got another gift from You-know-who. Not the snaky one.”
“And Ron and Hermione realized who it was from?”
“They didn’t have to, the note was signed…” He suddenly felt like crying. It was too much stress for him. He thought he was done with the existential dread, but it seemed Fate wasn’t done with him.
“Oh.”
“Yeah…”
Harry explained the events of the past day and the reason for the morning fight. Neville was as gobsmacked as him.
“Wow, he really tried to secretly get it, after all the trouble he gave you?”
“Yeah, it’s crazy right?! It just proved to me he wasn’t really worried about my safety, he was just being a jealous prat.”
“So, are you going to show me the famous gift or what?” Neville said jokingly, punching him gently with his elbow.
“Sure, come on.”
They went to the dorm and Harry carefully showed him the quill.
Neville whistled, “Nice! It would really have been a shame to throw it away. You were right to retrieve it.”
“Yeah… I’m just scared Ron is going to blab about it all over the school in revenge or something.” Harry sighed again in despair.
“Well, it’s nothing scandalous, and people receive gifts from other purebloods all the time. You’re the head of the Potter family, which means you hold a lot of power in the political sphere. Now that you’re approaching legal age, it wouldn’t be strange for someone like Lucius Malfoy to send you gifts hoping to create good relations between your family. I’m sure most pureblood wouldn’t even bat an eye.”
Harry felt himself relax a little. That’s right, he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was simply accepting a gift from a powerful pureblood. Throwing it away would only cause trouble, potentially sparking a political faux pas. He definitely didn’t want to be responsible for starting a family feud.
Keeping it was the only option. There was no other choice. That’s all there was to it.
Harry and Neville spent the next hour before breakfast rehearsing his defense in case Dumbledore called him to his office. By the end of it, he felt a little more confident.