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Author: Ladybug Story: A Whole Minute Rating: Young Teens Status: Completed Reviews: 2 Words: 9,197
And unbelievably, no sooner had [Harry] arrived outside Transfiguration than something just as good happened: Seamus stepped out of the queue to face him. (Ch. 26 Seen and Unforseen, Order of the Phoenix)
Bloody hell, I can see him coming round the corner now, down the far end of the corridor, and he’ll be here in less than a minute. My stomach churns at the thought of what I’ve got to do. Well, Finnigan, I think to myself, this is it – you’ve got to say something now or it’ll never end. I have never felt this bloody nervous in my life. If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what I’ll do. Because this has seriously been the worst year of my life. ~ ‘What do y’reckon, mate? Gonna come along, hear him out?’ Dean asked me, on the first Hogsmeade morning of the year. ‘C’mon. You can’t ignore each other for a whole year.’ I couldn’t think of anything worth saying to that. It didn’t seem such a sacrifice to me. ‘Look, it’s driving me bloody insane, going between the two of you!’ ‘He insulted me mam!’ I continued to dress without looking at Dean. ‘Yeah, well, you’ve gotta cut him a little bit of slack – you know he has it pretty rough. He’s a good bloke – damn moody and sullen, but decent. You know that. Why don’t you just put it behind you?’ ‘Not till he apologises. I’ll not be giving him anything till he apologises about me mam.’ ‘Suit yourself, then. I’ll tell you about it when I get back, OK?’ ‘Whatever.’ ~ The Quidditch is a complete loss this year. Not that I care. Not that anyone on the team even gives me the time of day anymore. ~ Ron stormed into the dormitory after Quidditch practice looking like he would be sick. Harry was close behind, saying, ‘It’ll get better, Ron, you just need to keep practising.’ ‘All right for you to say! You’re bloody brilliant and could do it without any practice at all.’ ‘Yeah, well, I haven’t got the chance now, have I?’ Harry scowled. I thought for half a second about keeping my mouth shut, but the imp in my head wouldn’t let me. ‘Yeah, now you’ve got more time to fight evil wizards,’ I muttered, just loud enough for them to hear. ‘Seamus!’ Dean hissed under his breath. Harry slammed his trunk shut with a loud bang and swung to face me. Neville trudged in at that moment, which was just as well, ‘cause I didn’t fancy being on the wrong end of both Harry and Ron’s fists. ‘What’s going on?’ Neville asked curiously, looking at the scene before him. Trust Neville, he should win the bloody Nobel Peace Prize. ‘Nothing,’ grunted Harry as he turned his back on me. The rest of us turned each to our own bunks and silently got ready for bed. ~ Harry must hate me. I won’t be surprised if he punches me in the face. I deserve it. That interview has stunned me. It’s all there in black and white and I can’t deny it any longer. Harry really has duelled He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And seen Diggory die. And come back to tell about it. Merlin, he’s either a very lucky bugger or a pretty damn-powerful wizard. Probably a bit of both. So really, Quidditch is the least of my problems. Since breakfast yesterday, this whole school has been divided into two opposing camps – those for Harry and those against. Except I’ve been in the ‘against’ camp all year. And it sucks. I’ve lost practically all my friends; my girlfriend had better things to do than find quiet corners with me; my mother keeps sending me paranoid letters about who I’m allowed to talk to and who I’m not; my marks are going down; and a monster toad-woman is taking over the school. ~ ‘Thomas!’ I called, flopping onto the couch. ‘Want me to flay you alive in Snap?’ Dean shook his head. ‘Sorry, can’t tonight.’ He was making his way to the portrait hole with Neville, Ginny Weasley, Parvati and Lavender – damn Lavender! Traitor. ‘Off to your little Potter fan club, again?’ I sneered bitterly. Dean glanced at the others as if to tell them to go on, and came to sit with me. ‘Look, why don’t you just come along? You know I can’t talk about it. Hermione’s ji— … well, just come along.’ ‘I don’t think Lord Potter would be happy to see me there.’ ‘Seamus, you know he’s not like that. You’re not being fair.’ ‘Yeah, well, it’s fair, is it, if all my friends keep secrets behind my back, and go off to secret meetings every other night, and take sides against me? Even Lavender, damn it! I spend so much time in the library these days I think I might pass History of Magic!’ ~ Christmas was a pretty dismal affair. My mother was practically crying over me the whole time because she remembers what it was like the first time – what You-Know-Who was like. That’s why she went back to Ireland, married Dad and stayed right away. She desperately wants to believe the Prophet, but I can see she doesn’t – she’s afraid he’s really back. Dad doesn’t understand, so he doesn’t know how to calm her down. And I couldn’t reassure her at all because I’ve basically cut myself off from the only bunch of people who are doing anything about it. And I have to live with that image of Harry spewing his guts out all over our dormitory floor when he’d just been possessed by You-Know-Who’s snake or something like that. Christ, that was awful. That was some serious evil he was dealing with, and though I don’t really know what happened, I heard his screams, saw him spew, noticed him and all the Weasleys gone the next day … you can’t put all that down to an overactive, attention-seeking imagination. The whole school’s been talking about nothing but Harry’s interview for a whole day now (suck that, Umbridge!). Last night I pretended to be asleep so I wouldn’t have to face Harry and Ron. I’d just read the article (thanks to Dean) and it was pretty convincing stuff – pretty amazing, too. In a bad way, that is. Terrifying, actually. It was too much to take in at once, so I slept on it, wondering whether I could ever make up with Harry. ~ For the fourth time I watched my spell have absolutely no effect on the colour of the guinea pig sitting in front of me. I couldn’t believe Neville had got it second time round. Neville! I’d been struggling with my spell work all year, but it didn’t take a genius to notice that Potter’s buddies were all topping their classes, especially in the subjects that used wands. Whatever they were doing in that secret society of theirs was paying off in their lessons. I’d never been brilliant at school work, but now I was falling further behind. At the end of class I caught up with Lavender. ‘Lavender,’ I whispered in her ear, ‘do you want to study Astronomy with me tonight?’ Lavender giggled at first, but then she sighed and shook her head. ‘Sorry, Seamus, I’ve got something on tonight – er – some study to do, you know, Defence.’ Great, Potter’s group. ‘Since when did you care about studying?’ I bit back. I liked Lavender ’cause she was a real girl – you know – girly. No, how else could I put it? Yes, I know – pretty, the prettiest girl in fifth year, in my opinion. She always looked pretty and smelled pretty and giggled prettily. Not like some other girls I could think of that were way too bossy and practical and not at all pretty or girly. Girls that were more concerned about world events and shaping the future and taking a stand. ‘Seamus! You know how important it is for us to learn how to defend ourselves. There are bad things happening out there and there are bad people, too. Why don’t you come? You should, it’s important.’ Girls like what Lavender was becoming. I couldn’t stand it. Why couldn’t we just have a bit of fun while we were at school and worry about the big bad world later? I snorted in disgust. ‘If you don’t want to ‘study’ with me anymore, Lavender, just say so!’ ‘Yeah, well, if you don’t give a toss about anything important at all, maybe I shouldn’t ‘study’ with you anymore!’ ‘Fine!’ ‘Fine!’ ~ We’re standing in line outside the Transfiguration classroom, waiting for class to start. Harry’s arrived – he must have Apparated here from the end of the corridor, because I can’t remember a minute passing so quickly before in my life. I step forward and feel Dean’s comforting slap on my shoulder. I’m glad he’s there, right behind me, because Dean’s cool with both of us, Harry and me, so we’ve got a tenuous bridge, even though I’ve done my best through the year to burn it. My palms are sweaty and my tongue has gone dry. I just hope to God Harry is half-way as decent as Dean keeps saying is – of course he is, I know he is. Hell, I’ve lived with him for five years – he’s a decent bloke. ‘I just wanted to say,’ I mumble and I can’t look him in the eye, ‘I believe you.’ Deep breath. Half-way there. ‘And I’ve sent a copy of that magazine to me mam.’ It kills, admitting I was wrong, that my family was wrong; but it doesn’t kill as much as losing good friends. The bell rings and we file into the classroom. I can’t help staring at Harry’s smile – it’s so happy and … genuine. Hell, it looks like he’s more relieved than I am, and I can’t believe my luck.
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