Percy Jackson at Hogwarts

"Without You My Friend"

Harry PoV

Ever since the potions class a few weeks ago, Ron and I haven't spoken a word to each other. Awkward gazes filled with anger and stubbornness—though if anyone had anything to be angry about, it's me. I wasn't the one who'd abandoned my best friend of five, nearly six years. I tried not to think about it and focus on other things, but Ron was everywhere. In the bunk next to me, sleeping, in my classes two tables back, in the common room talking to Percy, eating in the Great Hall a few people down from me. Coming out of the dormitory bathroom, on the Quidditch pitch during practice—everywhere.

Always with Percy, always with Malfoy... always, always, always.

And when he wasn't there, I was stuck thinking about that night in the corridor when he chose Percy and Malfoy over Hermione and I. I couldn't understand why Ron refused to see what Hermione and I refused to see, why he refused to believe me. Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater and with how close Malfoy and Percy are, Percy is most definitely a Death Eater too. Why else would he hang out with someone like Malfoy? Someone so pompous and spoiled, rude and disrespectful, degrading and insulting... Malfoy was all of these things and Percy was none, but a Death Eater Percy most definitely has to be.

Maybe Malfoy tricked him, but regardless, Ron has to see that they—both of them— are working with Voldemort. I wanted to confront Dumbledore about this, to let him know, but that last time I spoke to him about Malfoy being a Death Eater... he dismissed it. I knew he would only do the same now, and now Ron was in danger because he refused to see what is right in front of him. He refused to believe his best friends— if that title could even still be used.

"Yeah, I think I do need to figure out who my friends are." Ron left, he left, so now whatever happens is of his consequence, including this absence that I feel. Hermione is a good friend, but she's wasn't Ron. She doesn't joke around like he used to, doesn't groan about homework, do silly things, and there are things I could confide in Ron that I can't in Hermione. It was quiet without him, more somber, sadder, angrier, but there was nothing I could do. He refuses to see the obvious and I refuse to accept his ignorance.

"Harry," I startled out of my thoughts, heart leaping in the chest at the sudden intrusion. Hermione laughed next to me. I grimaced. "What are you thinking about? I know it's not Snape's homework because you haven't written a thing on that parchment." I sighed.

"What do you think I'm thinking about, Hermione?" She went silent at that and I drug my hand down my face, tired. "Sorry, I'm just tired and irritated, I didn't mean to be so rude." She nodded, forcing a smile.

"No, you're alright," but it wasn't, and I knew that. She knew that. But I left it because I didn't have the energy, but lack of energy has become very common lately. I'd have to get used, just like I was getting used to not having Ron around. Just like how Hermione's getting used to having one best friend leave and the other there, but not present. It wasn't fair... but I didn't have the energy.

"Er, what's the assignment again? I wasn't really paying attention." Hermione's brows furrowed and she huffed in annoyance.

"Harry! Honestly, how do you aim to pass if you don't pay attention! You love Defense Against the Dark Arts, how come you're not paying attention?" Her tone went from scolding to concerned. I rolled my eyes and she relaxed into her chair.

"How am I meant to pay attention when a bloody git is teaching?" Hermione guffawed and my eyebrows rose, thinking she would have scolded me instead. Her laughing was so intense it came out in odd snorts and chortled breaths. Soon, I was laughing along with her, not at my statement, but rather at the ridiculous sounds she was emitting. I didn't know why we were laughing so hard, but if felt good. It felt good to do something other than mope and sulk. To smile like I haven't been dong these past weeks. To laugh like I'd just heard the funniest thing in the world, to laugh so hard tears sprung into my eyes. Chest heaving, bent over, ragged breathing, loud laughter. And maybe I wasn't laughing at the way Hermione's laughed sounded anymore. Maybe I was just laughing.

Because it felt good, because I didn't know when I would next laugh this hard. Or maybe because I wanted it to last as long as possible. I didn't know all—or any of them—the answers, but I did know it was just me and Hermione in the common room. The fire blazing, a mess of homework and books on the table in front of us... and we were laughing.

Finally, I stopped laughing and Hermione followed behind. Her face was red and a big grin spread on her lips— I was sure my face was similar.

"We're supposed to write an essay about Dementors." I groaned, slumping dramatically in my seat.

"Hermione," I whined. "We we're having a perfectly good moment. Why'd you have to ruin it with homework?" She snorted, slapping me playfully on the arm.

"Well, it should be easy since you know a good deal about them." I groaned again, shutting my eyes.

"Don't remind me." I opened my eyes and sat up, reaching for the quill.

'Dementors are creatures of the Dark Arts controlled by the Ministry of Magic. Placed in the Wizarding prison, Azkaban, Dementors guard the prisoners and—

"Harry! You've taken up half the page and you've barely written two sentences! You can't turn that in!" I flopped backwards, sighing while throwing my hands upwards.

"Nooo... Hermione," she laughed at my whining and I narrowed my eyes before snorting, chuckling a little. It almost felt like everything was normal again, except Ron wasn't here. But, maybe this could be the new normal.