Time for a Change: Best Friends

Time for a Change
Chapter Four
By: Lori Finnegan
2006

 

For Draco, the day went by very quickly. He had ditched his extra baggage, namely Crabbe and Goyle, and he and Pansy had had a great time. They spent a few silent moments together sitting in his secret getaway and then headed on over to the Three Broomsticks and drank loads and loads of butterbeer, and then just when it was lunch time they bought everything they desired at Honeydukes Sweetshop, sat outside and munched on different kinds of chocolates and toffees.

 

By five o’clock, all of the Hogwarts students were cold and ready to go back to the castle and warm up before crawling into cozy beds. And at two after five, they were in a procession back to the castle, and it was moving very quickly due to many pairs of frozen feet.

 

When they opened the big doors to the main hallway, Draco realized that he had been trying to put something out of his mind the entire day. It flickered for a moment as everyone’s shoes clicked against the tiles and then went away as they all filed into the Great Hall. But it didn’t leave without a reminder that he would have a long and sleepless night ahead of himself.

_________________________________________________________________________

 

Dinner that night was boring and uneventful in Harry’s opinion, but then again, so was the entire day. He had spent most of the day at Hogsmeade alone. Ron and Hermione had ditched him early on so instead, he spent the morning with Lupin and the afternoon with Hagrid looking for supplies for Hagrid’s various magical creatures.

 

 

After dinner he bid a short farewell to Ron and Hermione and their other Gryffindor friends and went straight to his dormitory. He flopped down on his bed and reached up to pull the curtains so that he wouldn’t have to worry about looking up and conversing when someone entered the room. He sighed, opening his magazine back to where he had left off the night before and mindlessly flipped through the pages.

 

It was easy to stay in a grumpy mood when one was already grumpy enough to last the entire next week. So he had done his best to shut his friends out and try to get over it by himself. But he couldn’t help but wonder if they had noticed or if they even cared.

 

He got his answer when his curtains flew open and a red, freckled faced Ron stood there with his hands clutching the red curtains between his fists.

 

“Just who the hell do you think you are, Harry? Huh?”

 

Harry sat up and backed away from Ron’s angry stance. “Me?” he asked. “What about you? I could have been sleeping!”

 

“Does it look like I care?” Ron said. “You have been moping around this castle and all over Hogsmeade for too long, and it’s starting to piss me off! What in the hell is going on with you that you think you have the right to be all pouty and poor Harry over?”

 

Harry looked away from him and frowned. In a way, Ron was right. Nothing like his previous years at Hogwarts had happened so far. He had been safe and living a substantially normal life for the past month or so and that was probably a record for him. “Look, I’m sorry I haven’t been in the best of moods lately, Ron,” he admitted. “It’s just one of those things. Don’t you ever feel like things just aren’t going your way?”

 

“What are you talking about?” Ron demanded. “Things have never gone my way. But you don’t see me complaining about it!”

 

Harry looked back at him. Yeah right. Ron was the king of bad moods. What right did he have to pick on Harry about it? “Whatever,” he said. “I just want to be left alone for a while, okay?”

 

“Sure, you do. But you know what? I’m not going to let you wallow in self pity. You’re going to tell me what’s going on, and I’m not going to leave you alone until I get an answer!” Ron declared, letting go of the curtains to put his hands on his hips. “So spill it, Harry. What is it?”

 

Harry turned away once again. “You wouldn’t understand,” he mumbled. “So don’t even bother.”

 

“C’mon, mate,” Ron sighed. “You know that if anyone would understand something that’s bugging you it would be me. Aren’t we best mates?”

 

“Well, yeah,” Harry hesitantly agreed. “But this is different. You see, Ron, sometimes you get to a certain point in your life when…”

 

“When what?” Ron interrupted. “When you decide you can no longer confide in your friends?”

 

“No,” Harry said shooting him a glare. “Things change, that’s all.”

 

“So you no longer what to be my friend, is that it?”

 

“No!” Harry insisted. “Did I say that? It has nothing to do with you, Ron, got it?”

 

“Then what is it? If it isn’t to do with me, then why in the world can’t you tell me about it?”

 

“Because!” Harry yelled back at him. “You wouldn’t understand even if I told you! It would just mess things up and it’ll never be the same again. Trust me.”

 

“That’s crap, Harry, and you know it,” Ron told him. “If you can’t tell me what’s bothering you then we might as well not be friends anyway. So you might as well just tell me!”

 

Harry turned his head to look at the other side of the room.

 

Ron leaned forward. “Tell me!” he demanded.

 

“No,” Harry muttered.

 

“YES!” Ron shouted.

 

“NO!” Harry turned and shouted back.

 

“TELL ME, DAMMIT!” Ron yelled so loudly that the pictures shook on the walls.

 

Harry looked over at him and screamed, “I THINK I’M IN LOVE WITH HERMIONE!”

 

Ron froze, the expression falling off of his face. Harry swore that his freckles even got paler. The door flew open and Neville Longbottom stood at the doorway.

 

“What are you two yelling about?” he asked, but didn’t wait for the answer. “People are trying to study out here!”

 

The door slammed shut again, and Ron was still staring at Harry. Harry looked away, ashamed that he had not only told Ron his secret, but he had also said it so loudly that he couldn’t be sure that Ron was the only one who heard.

 

It was quiet for a few moments until Ron recovered from the initial shock. “What did you say?” he said quietly.

 

“Never mind,” Harry replied, still not daring to look at Ron in the eyes. “Forget I said anything. None of it matters anyway.”

 

“What do you mean, none of it matters?” Ron said, becoming animated once again. “Of course it matters. This changes everything!”

 

Harry glanced back at him. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you,” he said. “I don’t want anything to change. Just let me get over this on my own, and everything will go back to being normal.”

 

“It won’t ever be normal again,” Ron proclaimed. He started pacing back and forth in front of Harry’s bed. “This is completely messed up!”

 

“I know!” Harry told him. “So forget that I even told you!”

 

Ron stopped pacing and looked back at Harry. “I can’t just forget!” he said. “Now that you’ve told me, I can’t ever forget! What am I supposed to do? Just step aside while you and Hermione walk into the sunset? How do you think this makes me feel?”

 

“I wasn’t even going to tell you!” Harry insisted. “And besides, I’m not going to do anything about it anyway, so you don’t have to worry about anything like that.”

 

Ron was silent for a moment while Harry stared at him.

 

“Just forget about it,” Harry said again, trying to convince him. “It doesn’t matter what I feel if nothing is ever going to come out of it. So forget how I feel, and we can all go on with our lives.”

 

“Fine,” Ron said, turning around and walking towards the door. “I just need some air,” he muttered without looking back and promptly exited their room.

 

Harry was left alone, sitting on his bed and fearing that he had just made a huge mistake. Ron did not seem very pleased with his feelings, but then again, he also didn’t completely freak out like Harry would have expected him to do.

 

He wasn’t sure what to do next, so he flopped back down on his bed, landing on top of his magazine and continued to stare across the room. All he could do was wait for Ron to come back so they could talk it out some more.

_______________________________________________________________________

Ron walked briskly down Hogwarts’ halls, his feet echoing up throughout the high ceilings. Things were falling apart quickly around him, and he didn’t know what he could do to stop it. His brain went into overdrive.

 

 

What if Hermione felt the same way that Harry did? What if they actually got together and… well, what if they were a couple? What would Ron end up being then?

 

A spare tire, that’s what.

 

Well, he wasn’t going to have it. There was no way Harry was going to push him out of their circle. Without Harry and Hermione Ron didn’t know who exactly he was, and wasn’t at all sure where he would end up. It was a frightening thought.

 

His feet took him to the quietest place in the castle where he knew he could be sure that he wouldn’t be bothered on a Sunday evening; the library. He climbed up the stairs in the center of the library and emerged on the second floor where only the most studious students studied due to the reading levels of the books that were kept there.

 

And that’s why he was surprised to see Pansy Parkinson sitting alone at a round table in front of him. He tried to ignore her as he sat down by the windows and looked out at the darkening sky, but he kept getting the feeling she was watching him. Finally, he turned around and glared at her.

 

“Just what do you think you’re looking at?” he demanded. “Do I have a sign on my back or something?”

 

“No,” she said. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you, that’s all.”

 

“Shouldn’t you be with the rest of the Slytherins plotting some great and evil plan?” he wanted to know.

 

Pansy sighed an uncharacteristic sigh and turned the page in the large text book she was reading. “I’m studying for Potions if you must know,” she said as she picked up her pen. “Is that okay with you?”

 

“Who cares,” he muttered, looking back out the window until he realized she was sitting down across from him at the small rectangular table. “Did I invite you to sit next to me?”

 

“No,” Pansy said. “But when someone interrupts my studies to sit and pout about Merlin knows what, how am I supposed to concentrate?”

 

Ron raised a suspicious eyebrow at her. “Are you volunteering to try and help me with my problems or something?”

 

“It’s either that or you find another place to sit,” she told him.

 

Ron stood up, his chair screeching behind him as he moved. “As if I’d tell a Slytherin anything about my personal life. I think I’ll find another place to sit.” He took one last look at her through narrowed eyes and stalked off to the other end of the library.

 

Just when he thought his day couldn’t get any weirder, it would figure that he’d run into an annoying Slytherin. He sat down in the corner of the library’s second floor and stared once again out into the skies. Now he just had to figure out what he was going to say to Harry when he went back to the room.

_________________________________________________________________________

Hermione looked after Ron, peering at him down the long isle of books as he sat by the window at the end of the library. Something major was going on in her group of friends, and she was missing it entirely by being forced to play Pansy Parkinson for two whole weeks. She wanted to run to Ron and help him realize he was probably overreacting over something, but in the body she was currently in, that was completely out of the question.

 

Instead, she just closed her text book and thought about having a conversation with Pansy about this later.

 

There was nothing she could do at the moment.

_____________________________________________________________________

At nine o’clock that evening, Pansy sat alone in the Gryffindor Common Room. Most of the Gryffindors were so exhausted from their long trip at Hogsmeade that they had either turned in early or went to work on some last minute homework projects before it was too late. She finally had some alone time, and she was cherishing it. Being surrounded by happy Gryffindors twenty-four seven was enough to make even the sanest witch crazy.

 

 

She was curled up on a cozy chair in front of the warm fire place with a blanket wrapped around her as she stared into the flames.

 

“Hey,” a female voice said, and Pansy turned just in time to see Ginny Weasley plopping down in the chair besides her.

 

Pansy groaned inwardly. “Hey, Ginny,” she said, wondering if Ginny was anything like her older brother; loud and dense.

 

“Hey, Hermione,” Ginny said, holding her socked toes closer to the fire. “Is something weird happening between you, Harry and Ron? Everyone seems to be acting really strange lately.”

 

Pansy gulped. Apparently she wasn’t as dense as Ron. “Not that I know of,” she said. For all she knew, drama between the three of them could be a usual arrangement. “I think the guys are just getting stressed as the Quiditch season approaches. That’s all they ever talk about, you know.”

 

“I know,” Ginny said as she wiggled her toes. “It’s just that everyone has been so quiet these past few days. Well, that and I saw Ron speeding down the hallway angrily. Even his freckles were red.”

 

Pansy looked over at her. Had something happened that she wasn’t aware of? “I honestly don’t know anything about that,” she said truthfully. “I was in my room after dinner and just came out to sit by the fire in the last half hour. Maybe he got into a fight with one of the other guys?”

 

“It could be,” Ginny agreed. “You know Ron can get a little hot headed at times.”

 

“Yeah…” Pansy said. “He’s not the calmest of boys, is he.”

 

Ginny jumped up from the chair. “Well, if you find anything out, let me know if I can help. And if it’s something completely stupid, which I’m sure it probably is, I don’t even want to know.”

 

“Got it,” Pansy said. Ginny actually wasn’t all that bad for a Gryffindor, she decided. She was very different from both Harry and Ron, and Hermione’s roommates. Maybe all Gryffindors weren’t quite so horrible.

 

“I’m off to bed,” Ginny announced. “See you tomorrow.”

 

“Good night,” Pansy said in her most Hermione-like tone and then went back to staring at the fire. Of course for the two weeks that she was Hermione the Gryffindors had to be completely bursting of drama. It would only figure.

__________________________________________________________________________

By eleven o’clock that night, Ron had finally worked up enough courage to return to his dormitory and face Harry to discuss the Hermione situation further. Part of him wished that Harry had fallen asleep already, and they could just put it off until tomorrow.

 

 

Unfortunately for Ron, Harry was still up and didn’t look one bit sleepy even though their other roommates appeared to be sound asleep. He still sat on his bed with his Potions book in his lap, apparently studying. Harry looked up when he heard the door open.

 

“So you’ve finally decided to return,” Harry said, looking back down at his book. “I thought you were going to spend the night in the Common Room or something.”

 

“Ha, ha,” Ron said. “Yeah, I’m back. I just needed to think things through. This all came to me as a shock. I’m sure you can understand.”

 

“I know. But don’t worry about it. Nothing’s going to happen anyway so you can just forget I ever told you. Okay?”

 

Ron walked over to his own area in the room and opened his dresser draw, pulling out his pajamas. “Kinda hard to forget something like that, Harry,” he said, throwing the cloths onto his bed and pulling off his shirt.

 

“Well, then, don’t forget it,” Harry advised. “But either way, nothing will happen because I’m never telling her. And neither should you. Got it?”

 

Ron shot him a look. “I wouldn’t tell her if you asked me not to. Who do you think I am, anyway?”

 

“My friend,” Harry replied. “So please respect my wishes. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Ron agreed. “I promise I’ll never tell Hermione about our conversation.” He slipped his pajama shirt on over his head and mumbled, “I wasn’t going to anyway.” As if he would dare to open that can of worms in front of Hermione.

 

After he was finished dressing he got into bed. “Night,” he said before pulling his curtains and laying his head down on his pillow. So much for sleeping. Tomorrow was going to be an entirely new day.

 

____________________________________________________________________

Draco Malfoy woke up the next morning and glared at his alarm clock. He reached for his wand that lie next to his pillow and pointed it right at the giant green numbers. “Absentis,” he muttered and then flopped his blonde head back onto his pillow.

 

If he added up the entire amount of time that he slept that night, it would probably come to about three and a half hours. And it was a common known fact that Malfoys needed at least eight hours to be on the top of their game.

 

About five minutes later he was up and getting changed into his school uniform and when he looked into the mirror he tried to ignore the dark circles under his eyes. Putting a comb once through his hair, he grabbed his homework and headed out the door.

 

Crabbe and Goyle were already waiting for him in the Slytherin Common Room, but Pansy wasn’t anywhere in the area. When the two of them saw Draco, they fell into step behind him and all three of them headed for the door.

 

“Have you two seen Pansy?” Draco wanted to know as they stepped through the entrance. “I haven’t seen her since dinner last night.”

 

“Nope,” Goyle replied. “We were only in the common room about five minutes before you showed up.”

 

“And it couldn’t have been soon enough,” Crabbe added. “Let me tell you, Draco, I am starving. I’m going to eat three omelets, four blueberry muffins and five pancakes. What about you, Goyle?”

 

“That and more,” Goyle said, nodding his head at the other large boy. “Time will tell, my friend. Time will tell.”

 

Draco rolled his eyes as he led the way to the Great Hall. He had suddenly lost his appetite.

______________________________________________________________________

 

Hermione sat alone at the end of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. She had a blue berry muffin and an egg, sunny side up on her plate, barely eaten. After breakfast she and Pansy had agreed to meet in the library on the second floor to exchange homework assignments. She had arrived to breakfast early so that she could go over things before taking off to Pansy’s classes.

 

 

So when she saw Draco with his goons walking up to her, she closed her textbook and shoved it into her bag. There was no way she was going to get any studying done now.

 

“Hey, Pans,” Draco smiled, sliding into the seat across from her while Crabbe and Goyle sat on either side of him and immediately began scooping food onto their plates. “You sure got up early.”

 

“Not too early,” Hermione said, sticking her fork into the center of the yolk and watching as it ran down the sides. “I’ve only been here for about ten minutes.”

 

“Oh,” he said. “Maybe it’s me who’s late.”

 

Crabbe nodded at him as he stuffed a forkful of hash browns into his mouth. “We had to wait forever for you to come out of your room,” he said. “And did I mention that we’re starving?”

 

“Yes,” Draco said through clenched teeth. “You did.”

 

The four of them finished up their breakfasts and then headed on to their classes. If today was any hint about how the next two weeks of being a Slytherin would be, Hermione was not excited about it at all.

 

_________________________________________________________________________

 

Hermione rushed up the library steps and went to the corner table to meet Pansy, who was already sitting there.

 

 

“I hope you don’t make this late thing a habit,” Pansy said. “I’m going to be late for your classes if we don’t hurry this up.”

 

Hermione flopped her books on the table and handed her all of her assignments. “It’s not my fault,” she said. “Draco needed some last minute encouragement on his Transfiguration essay. So if you want to blame someone, blame him.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Pansy rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Now give me your homework.”

 

Hermione handed her five folders, each with the names of her classes on them. “Each assignment for each class is located in the right side of the folder,” she explained. “Now your homework?”

 

Pansy plopped down one thick folder. “It’s all inside,” she said, smiling. “Somewhere, anyway. I trust you’ll find what you need.”

 

Hermione frowned at her. “Your grades, not mine,” she said. “And fine.” She scooped up the folder and put it into her bag. “And there’s one more thing I wanted to talk to you about,” she said as she took a seat across from Pansy.

 

Pansy looked bored. “Do we have time for this?” she asked, glancing up at the huge library clock.

 

“It’ll just take a second,” Hermione assured her. “I wanted to ask you about Ron. Yesterday I saw him up here pouting about something. Did something happen to make him so upset?”

 

“Not that I know about,” Pansy answered. “But Ginny approached me yesterday about it, so I’m assuming something happened behind my back or something. When I find out about it, I’ll let you know. But in the meantime, I’ve gotta get to class or you’ll be late.” She stood up and picked up her backpack.

 

“Yes,” Hermione said, standing up as well. “Let’s plan on meeting at the same time tomorrow morning to exchange homework assignments.”

 

“It’s a deal,” Pansy replied, rushing off down the stairs. “See you later!” she called.

 

A few moments later, Hermione followed her down the stairs and out into the hallways.

_____________________________________________________________________

 

Halfway through the day, Pansy was beginning to realize just how horrible it was to be Hermione in class. The professors always called on her and expected her to know every answer to every question. And when Pansy didn’t know, everyone gave her these strange looks… like something was wrong with her. Professor McGonagall even asked if she wanted to go to the nurse. Pansy had, of course, insisted that she was fine, and the class went on without too many more hitches.

 

 

After a long and quiet lunch with Harry and Ron, the three of them rushed down to the dungeons for Potions class and took their normal seats. Well, Harry and Ron did anyway. Pansy had to sit in Hermione’s seat, of course.

 

“Just where do you think you’re sitting, Miss Granger?” Professor Snape said, his big nose in the air.

 

Pansy looked back at him. “In my seat, Professor. Is that okay with you?”

 

“Don’t get smart with me, Miss Granger. I’ve decided that you and Miss Parkinson will be permanent partners due to your wonderful teamwork last week. You may have your seat next to her,” Snape explained.

 

Pansy looked over at Hermione, who looked back at her, and they both gave a silent sigh. Pansy picked up her things and avoided looking at either Ron or Harry and walked slowly over to the Slytherin side of the room. She had had enough of Hermione’s friends to last herself a lifetime.

 

She set her things down on the desk next to Hermione and then sat down, thankful to be away from the brooding duo also known as Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

 

“Things are bad,” she whispered to Hermione when Snape turned to write a formula on the board. “Ron and Harry didn’t say a word to each other during lunch. I think they’re fighting about something.”

 

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Try and get it out of them. I’d try Harry first. Ron holds grudges.”

 

Pansy gave a nod just as Snape turned to glare at them. “Sharing secrets?” he asked. “Care to share it with the class?”

 

Both Hermione and Pansy shook their heads.

 

“Then I trust you’ll be deathly quiet throughout the rest of the class.”

 

“Yes, Professor,” both girls said in unison, and then looked back down at their books.

_____________________________________________________________________

 Later that afternoon, a small crowd was gathering around the Quidditch field, consisting mostly of team members, prospective players and die hard fans. Pansy had come to see who would make the Slytherin team this year seeing as several of the starters had graduated the previous year.

 

 

She stood next to the warming up area and watched several Gryffindor players flying around in circles on their brooms. It wasn’t long that she was staring up at them when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

 

“What are you doing here?” Harry wanted to know.

 

“I just came to watch and see how you guys were doing,” she replied. It seemed like something Hermione would do, anyway. “You’re on the team for sure, right?”

 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, they made me captain this year.”

 

For someone who was so excited about Quidditch all the time, he seemed pretty down and out about the subject. But then again, Harry seemed pretty down about most things lately. Pansy decided to take the opportunity to find out what was going on, as Hermione had instructed her to do.

 

“Hey, Harry,” she said, turning to face him and putting on a very concerned look as she imagined Hermione wore often when it came to her dear friends. “Are you okay? You’ve been so quiet lately…”

 

“I’m fine,” Harry said quickly, turning away from her slightly. “Just a little nervous about tryouts today.”

 

“Why are you nervous?” Pansy wondered. “You’re already on the team.”

 

“I know… It’s just that Ron isn’t for sure. I’m afraid he might be upset if he doesn’t make it,” Harry explained. “And you know how Ron gets when he’s… well…”

 

“Jealous?” Pansy guessed.

 

“Well, yeah,” Harry confirmed. “And he’s already upset enough as it is.”

 

“Harry,” Pansy said, pushing him over to the bench outside of the changing rooms. “Can I talk to you about Ron?”

 

Harry looked positively terrified as they sat down next to each other on the bench. “Sure…” he said slowly. “What about Ron?”

 

“Well, everyone has been asking me what’s going on with him,” she said truthfully, looking down at her hands. “But honestly, I don’t know what to tell them because he hasn’t confided in me about what’s going on.”

 

“I see…” Harry said quietly, looking down as well.

 

“I sort of feel out of the loop,” she confessed. “Did you guys get into a fight or something?”

 

Harry looked off to the side at several second years talking about how they were the best Quidditch players in their class. “I guess you could say that,” he admitted. “It’s just a little awkward, that’s all. It’ll blow over in a few days. Most likely…”

 

She wondered if Hermione even knew these guys. She had said that Harry would be the most open out of the two, but so far, the only information she had gained was that Harry and Ron had gotten into some sort of argument and they didn’t feel like talking to each other currently. She wanted a subject matter, damn it! How in the hell was she supposed to get through these next two weeks around Hermione’s dumb friends if all they were going to do is ignore each other or bicker?

 

She decided she might as well come out and ask him. What did she have to lose? This was Hermione’s life, anyway. “Are you sure?” she asked. “What did you guys have a fight about, anyway?”

 

But her questions made Harry look even more withdrawn from the conversation. “It’s really not a big deal,” he told her. “It’s just some stupid boy thing that you probably wouldn’t understand.”

 

Pansy sighed. “Come on, Harry. How long have I been your best friend now?” When he didn’t say anything, she answered for him. “Almost six years! We’ve been friends for such a long time, and you think I wouldn’t understand?”

 

Harry glanced over at her and then looked away once again. “It’s just… personal,” he muttered. “Please don’t worry about it. In a few days it’ll all be over, and we can go back to being normal.”

 

“Okay,” Pansy gave up. This was obviously a topic that Harry did not want to discuss with her. What could it possibly be if he wouldn’t tell his best friend? “Well, I’ll let you get back to your Quidditch buddies,” she said, standing up and turning to face him. “But if you change your mind and want to talk about anything… you know where to find me, okay?”

 

“Thanks, Hermione,” Harry said, a small smile creeping onto his face. “Stay and watch the tryouts, okay?”

 

Pansy nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it,” she promised as she watched him walk back into the dressing rooms. It was getting easier and easier to play Hermione, she noticed. If she didn’t think about it too much, she almost felt like Harry’s loyal friend.