Ron's Question
Every time Harry thinks he’s finally found Malfoy alone, Hermione is pulling him off to show him something or explain something else. He doesn’t think much of it at first. Until, he finally shakes her and Ginny stops him. Ginny hasn’t spoken to him much at all this year and the timing does not go unnoticed.
The next time he finds an opening, it’s Lavender Brown who stops him and Harry doesn’t know why it’s not proper etiquette to apologize to Malfoy for making him cry. But apparently it is. No one will tell him why they wish to stop him beyond that, no matter how much he asks. Even Ron and Neville tell him to drop it. Which is just as fine because Harry’s not sure he’s actually all that sorry for teasing him. It’s just that Harry doesn’t want Malfoy to die.
There’s also the fact Lavender has started hanging around with Ron and Hermione. Harry’s pretty sure that Lavender was one of Hermione’s least favorite people before this year but now Hermione seems thrilled to have an extra set of female ears to bounce ideas off of. It also seems that ever since Hermione started wear the barrette from Ron everyday, Lavender has lost all romantic interest in him.
So Harry decides to live with leaving things un-righted for the time being and he tries to focus on the upcoming task. A few days ago, Dumbledore brought them all back into his office but this time Justin stood in front of the mirror. After the dragon incident, the three of them decide it’s important to really think about the clues this time.
Justin tells both Harry and Padma that he is sure it will involve being underwater for a lengthy period of time and Padma agrees. Harry tires to contribute whenever they meet but he finds himself feeling like the third wheel which is really irritating because he’s starting to feel the same way around Ron and Hermione too.
At breakfast one November morning, a seventh year Hufflepuff rises from her seat only a few minutes after everyone’s settled. Her voice is loud enough to be heard from where Harry’s sitting.
“I’m glad that Draco Malfoy was put in his place. He’s always been so full of himself. I bet he thinks everyone here is in love with him. Well, I’m not. I’d never date him, even if he begged. Would you Susan?”
Susan Bones stands and proclaims something equally out of pocket before turning the boy sitting next to her and asking if he might be interested in Draco. He’s not.
Of all the weird things to happen, this one is the weirdest so far. At first, neither Ron nor Harry are too troubled over what’s happening.
If anything, Harry finds the situation somewhat funny. Malfoy has a history of cruel words that he never apologizes for. If he had made Harry cry, then he’d be strutting around the school gloating. It serves him right to watch a third Hufflepuff publicly admonish the thought of ever dating him.
But by the time a fifth Hufflepuff is airing their reasons for not finding him attractive, it’s clear that something is wrong. Something about what’s happening feels unnatural and it’s not just how rude everyone is being. The Great Hall looks like the Great Hall but it also doesn’t. The colors and texture of everything is a bit wrong.
It’s also getting harder to hear the shouting over a cackling sound in his ears. Upon future reflection, Harry realizes he’s laughing. He’s laughing way too hard for this though and it’s starting to hurt. He’s not the only one to laugh but by the time he even realizes it, most of them have stopped already.
Hermione gives up trying to silence him and is now pulling Ron and Neville into a huddle. Between gasps of painful laughter, Harry chances a look at the Ravenclaws. They are whispering among themselves now, much as his fellow Gryffindors are. Harry wants to listen in but his own laughter makes that difficult.
Everyone seems to be staying with their houses as the rejections of Malfoy start to grow less and less civil. The ancient magic is visible in the air now, cracking and sparking as one witch shouts how she can barely stand to look at Malfoy before she turns to the wizard beside her to ask if he’d ever fancy the blond git.
This has stopped being funny several minutes ago but Harry cannot make himself stop laughing and it’s getting harder to breathe. Between violent shakes, he notices Padma pull Justin aside quickly and whisper something in his ear before shoving him back to his table. A glance at the Ravenclaw table shows that many of them have re-arranged their seats though Harry has no idea why they’d do that.
Justin returns just in time for Hannah Abbot to shout, “I’d rather kiss a dementor than Draco Malfoy! What about you, Justin?”
Justin’s answer is nicer, technically. “It’s a tough choice; both options are so awful. Still, I’d kiss Draco over a dementor. Hey Loony, would you ever date Draco Malfoy?”
Is this what Pansy meant when she called him influential?
All eyes shift to the Ravenclaws now as Luna rises to answer the question. If anyone can stop this, it’s Luna, Harry thinks. Even as he cackles at the words, Harry wants this to stop. Now.
He cannot imagine Luna speaking cruelly of anyone and while she seems unable to stop herself from answering, true to form, her voice, elegant even as it shouts proclaims:
“Draco’s lovely but I’m rather happy on my own at the moment! Cho, would you ever date Draco Malfoy?”
The Ravenclaws’ begin to shout why they wouldn’t date Draco but the intensity of the insults, while fluctuating, seems restrained, far kinder than the Hufflepuffs, who are now wearing looking of shame.
It’s half-way through the Ravenclaws’ rejections when Harry notices Padma is casting something over the Ravenclaws. At some point, Padma stops to sit and Luna starts casting in her place. A silvery light is covering all the Ravenclaws as they stand to ask if anyone would be interested in dating Draco.
It’s at this moment that Harry allows himself to look at the Slytherin table. There is only one thing to be heard from that direction and it’s Malfoy. He’s hunched over his seat, fists pounding his chest as he coughs. Besides him, Pansy is rubbing circles on his back. Harry has never seen Pansy look anything but smug until this moment. Now, she’s silently crying.
All the other Slytherins are completely stoic, not a hint of emotion on their faces. But they’ve stopped eating.
Padma’s asking Parvati if she has any interest in Draco now and Harry’s not laughing anymore. The moment he realizes he’s stopped, Hermione is grabbing his attention.
“Harry, thank goodness. Listen, there’s not much time to explain. I need you to trust me,” she says, “do you? Do you trust I’ve figured this out?”
It’s a stupid question really. Of course he trusts Hermione to understand things he doesn’t. He agrees. Somewhere not too far away, Collin Creevey exclaims he’s seen trolls prettier than Malfoy.
“Good. You can’t stop it. None of us can. The Champion of each house goes last. Every house except Slytherin has to speak. You’ll be the very last person to go. Listen carefully, the magic will make you feel like you’re not yourself, like you need to be the most viscous version of yourself. You have to resist. Resist with everything you got.”
“O-okay” He stutters out, completely overwhelmed by how surreal this already feels.
“You’ll know it’s time when I ask Ron. Then, Ron will ask you. Think the nicest things you can about Draco until then.”
Harry huffs a bit and Hermione raises a brow, “Is the laughter coming back?”
“No. You just called him Draco.”
“You should do the same, if you can. It helps.”
Harry looks back over to the Slytherins. Pansy is helping Draco up now. She’s far shorter than him and he drapes over her like a limp noodle. His face is buried deep in his hands. Every few seconds he convulses, confirming that the coughs have yet to subside. If anything, they’re getting worse. Pansy gets him almost halfway to the door when he falls to the floor.
Somewhere that sounds far further than it is, someone Harry can’t be bothered to identify shouts, “I’d rather die an old maid than date Draco Malfoy! Ginny, would you date him?”
Pansy is doing her best to support Draco but she’s not able to pull him off the floor. Not as he starts to to choke.
“He’s the richest prat I’ve ever met and even he couldn’t pay me enough to date him!”
It’s all rather mean, far too mean. This is too much.
“I’d never allow such a coward to lay a single finger on me!”
Harry has seen Draco suffer plenty times before. He’s always been melodramatic over even the tiniest of scratches. Always a spectacle, always for show. Then again, Harry has also seen Draco lie to Bellatrix Lestrange. That’s it’s own kind of bravery even if Harry would never admit it out loud.
“I’m nearly sick to my stomach at the mere suggestion. What about you Anna? Would you date Draco Malfoy?”
“Not even if we never had to touch and he let me take another lover. Would you?”
“He’s far too mean and dull for me. Would you date Draco Malfoy, Neville?”
Harry knows Draco can be mean, sure. Though it turns out, nearly everyone else is just as capable of his level of cruelty. And dull? There are plenty of ways to insult Draco without resorting to lies.
“I’d sooner marry Professor Snape! Would you date Draco Malfoy, Hermione?”
“Though I’m glad he’s reformed, I have too much self respect to date a former Death Eater! Would you date him, Ron?”
Most of these statements are ridiculous. Anyone would be a far better kisser than a dementor, obviously. And Harry would definitely choose him over Snape.
“I don’t like blokes but even if I did, I wouldn’t date Malfoy. Would you Harry?”
And Draco’s way prettier than any troll.
“What about you, would you date Draco Malfoy?”
In fact, if Harry lets himself put their history aside for a moment, Draco might be the prettiest person he’s ever met.
“Would you?”
Harry finally tears away from Draco and meets Ron’s gaze.
“WOULD YOU?!” The way Ron shouts and the look on his face is eerily reminiscent of when they had to carry around a horcrux for several weeks before they could destroy it.
Harry doesn’t want to but his legs and feet have already made the choice to rise from his chair. Obviously, he wouldn’t want to date Malfoy. But between the strange surge of magic and all the mean taunts and the fact that Malfoy looks like he might pass out at any moment… Harry opens his mouth to speak. He has no idea what he’s about to say until he’s screaming.
“I DON’T KNOW! IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS ANYWAY, RON!”
Harry does not care what he’s supposed to be doing at the moment. He does not care what the ancient magic calls him to do. He’s disgusted with himself for watching as everyone felt it absolutely necessary to stand up and shout the meanest things they could imagine about Draco while he’s crumpled on the floor, shaking violently, tears staining his cheeks, hands clenched to his mouth trying to keep … something in.
Is he going to vomit?
There a million questions Harry wants to ask but Hermione’s expression tells him ‘not here.’ So he moves instead to check on Draco but Hermione pulls him into his seat with force. She shakes her head ‘no.’
Finally, Madam Pomfrey is rushing to his side, where he leans against Pansy’s tiny frame. He’s not out quite yet though. Once more strong cough and his hands fall listlessly to his sides as his eyes flutter shut. Something falls from his mouth and on the ground sits the culprit: three rose petals. One is black, two are white. Or rather, one is white and one would be white, if not for the blood spattered heavily across it.
“I can’t sit here and do nothing about this, Hermione,” Harry says as he feels the strange magic recede.
“On the contrary, Harry, you’ve saved us all with your grace and tact,” Hermione replies.
Harry is pretty sure this is the first time he’s ever been praised for either. The way she speaks reminds Harry of when she quoting something she’s read.