Betrayal and Distance
The next morning, Harry woke up with a heavy weight on his chest. He lay there for a long time, staring at the ceiling of his four-poster bed, trying to muster the strength to face the day.
Everything had changed. Or, rather, he had changed.
He could no longer look at his friends—the people he had once trusted more than anything—with the same blind loyalty. Their roles in Dumbledore’s manipulation haunted him, filling him with a mixture of anger and betrayal. He couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine. Not anymore.
Sitting up, he ran a hand through his messy hair and made up his mind. He needed to cut ties. He couldn’t afford to let them interfere in his plans this time around. If Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had been part of the conspiracy before, they couldn’t be trusted now.
As he dressed in his school robes, the weight of what he was about to do settled heavily on his shoulders. This was going to hurt—he knew that. But it had to be done.
At breakfast in the Great Hall, Harry sat quietly at the Gryffindor table, barely touching his food. He could feel Ron’s eyes on him, could sense Hermione’s concerned glances, but he didn’t acknowledge them. His mind was racing, trying to figure out how to broach the subject without revealing too much. He couldn’t tell them about the time travel, but he also couldn’t let them think everything was normal.
Finally, when the tension became unbearable, Harry stood up, pushing his barely eaten plate away. “Can we talk?” he asked, his voice quiet but firm.
Ron and Hermione exchanged confused looks but nodded. The three of them stood and headed out of the Great Hall, making their way to a quiet corner of the courtyard, away from prying ears.
Harry took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was about to happen. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he turned to face them.
“What’s going on, mate?” Ron asked, his voice tinged with concern. “You’ve been acting weird since we got back to Hogwarts.”
“I need to say something,” Harry began, his voice tight. “And it’s not going to be easy.”
Hermione’s brow furrowed. “Harry, if something’s wrong, we’re here for you. You can talk to us.”
Harry shook his head, his heart hammering in his chest. “No, Hermione. You don’t understand. This isn’t something you can just fix. This isn’t something we can get through together.”
Ron frowned, crossing his arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Harry said, his voice hardening, “that I can’t trust either of you.”
Hermione gasped, her eyes widening in shock. “Harry, what are you talking about? We’re your friends—”
“Friends?” Harry interrupted, his anger bubbling to the surface. “Friends don’t lie to each other. Friends don’t manipulate each other. And friends don’t help someone like Dumbledore control my life.”
Ron’s face paled, his eyes flicking to Hermione for support. “Mate, we never—”
“Don’t lie to me!” Harry’s voice rose, and he took a step forward, his fists clenched. “I know what you did. Both of you. You were working with Dumbledore this whole time. You helped him keep me in the dark about everything—about my life, my future. You let him use me like a pawn, and you never once told me the truth.”
Hermione’s hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock and guilt. “Harry, we didn’t want to hurt you. Dumbledore said it was for your own good—”
“My own good?” Harry repeated, his voice dripping with disbelief. “How was it for my own good to keep me in the dark about my parents, about my future, about everything? You just went along with whatever Dumbledore wanted. You let him control my entire life!”
Hermione’s voice wavered, her eyes filling with tears. “We were trying to protect you, Harry. We thought we were doing the right thing.”
Harry’s heart clenched at the sight of her tears, but he couldn’t back down. He couldn’t let their excuses sway him. “You weren’t protecting me. You were protecting Dumbledore’s lies.”
Ron, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke up, his voice defensive. “We didn’t know everything, Harry. Dumbledore didn’t tell us the whole truth either. We were just trying to help.”
“Well, you didn’t,” Harry snapped. “All you did was make things worse. I can’t trust either of you. Not anymore.”
Hermione’s tears spilled over, but Harry forced himself to remain cold. He couldn’t let himself feel sympathy for them. Not after everything they had done.
“So what?” Ron said, his voice rising in anger. “You’re just going to throw away years of friendship because of Dumbledore?”
Harry’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t about Dumbledore. It’s about trust. And I don’t trust you. Either of you.”
There was a long, heavy silence as Ron and Hermione stared at him, disbelief and hurt etched across their faces.
Finally, Hermione spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “Is this really what you want, Harry? To cut us out of your life?”
Harry looked away, his heart aching. “It’s what I have to do.”
Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Ron and Hermione standing there, stunned and broken.
Harry didn’t stop walking until he reached the Quidditch pitch. His chest heaved with emotion, and he collapsed onto one of the benches, burying his face in his hands.
He had done it. He had cut them off. The two people who had stood by him through so much—gone. And despite the anger and betrayal he felt, there was an ache in his chest that he couldn’t ignore.
But it had to be done. He couldn’t let them manipulate him again. He couldn’t let anyone manipulate him again.
Later that day, Harry sat in an empty classroom with Fred and George Weasley, the two people he could still trust. He hadn’t told them the full truth—he couldn’t—but he had hinted at enough for them to understand that something serious was going on.
“You really did it, didn’t you?” Fred asked, leaning back in his chair. “You cut them off.”
Harry nodded, staring down at his hands. “I had to.”
George exchanged a glance with his twin, then leaned forward. “Look, Harry, we don’t know what’s really going on, but we’re with you. Whatever you need, you can count on us.”
Harry looked up, gratitude swelling in his chest. The twins had always been there for him in their own way, offering support when he needed it most. He could trust them—he was sure of that.
“Thanks,” Harry said quietly. “I’m going to need all the help I can get.”
Fred grinned. “Don’t worry, mate. We’re not letting you face this alone.”
Harry managed a small smile. “Good, because I have a feeling things are about to get a lot more complicated.”