3. The Trouble with Dean

 

 

 

Ernie Macmillan didn’t make it to breakfast the following morning.  Though, none of the Gryffindors noticed this until the arrival of the Daily Prophet:

 

           ANOTHER RESPECTED AUROR KILLED IN RAID

 

In a raid on a suspected Death Eater hideout, Geoffrey Sebastian Macmillan was the latest casualty in the Ministry’s efforts to clamp down on the supporters of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…

 

Without noticing was she was doing, Hermione ended up dragging the paper through Harry’s cereal as she looked over to the Hufflepuff table in search of Ernie.

 

“Hermione!”

 

“What?  Oh, sorry, Harry.  I just…  Look at this.”  She handed him the paper, and Ron leant towards him in an attempt to read over his shoulder.  “Ernie’s not here.  I wonder what’s going to happen to him now that he’s lost his father.”

 

Harry found his thoughts turning back to Sirius once more.  He still missed his godfather, and it was still painful to think of the day he died.  But at least it hadn’t been splashed across the front page; Harry had been privileged with a certain amount of privacy, something that he didn’t normally have the luxury of experiencing.  He wondered whether he’d be able to help when Ernie returned, whether he could be someone Ernie could talk to.  In the end, though, Harry decided against it.  What would he know?  He had only lost a godfather who he barely knew.  Ernie had lost his father.  And yes, Harry had lost his father, too, but it was a father Harry couldn’t remember at all.  He had no idea what Ernie must be feeling, he told himself, and he had no business getting involved.

 

Ernie arrived back at Hogwarts a couple of days later, very subdued and ashen-faced.  He hardly spoke, except to a few of his closer housemates, but the news of him and his mum moving in with his uncle, Errol Pleinius Maudrey, soon permeated the school.

 

“Maudrey?  I’ve never heard of that wizarding name before,” Hermione commented.

 

“They’re an old pureblood family, but they’re not well known,” Ron informed her, pleased that he was the one with the knowledge for a change.  “They tend to keep out of any trouble.  Well, they tend to keep out of anything at all.  When Voldemort first came to power, people often made a joke of comparing them to Switzerland in one of the Muggle world wars, but I guess that would mean more to you than it does to me…”

 

Hermione nodded with understanding, but much to Ron’s frustration, she didn’t go into any detail to enlighten him.  Harry couldn’t help smirking that Ron wasn’t brave enough to admit he didn’t know what it meant.

 

As the date of the ball drew nearer, conversation about Ernie petered out, and once again, it became all too predictable for Harry.  He wasn’t even safe when studying in the library with Hermione and Ron.

 

“Do you know who you’re going to ask yet?”  Ron had been the fifth person to ask him that day. 

 

Hermione looked up from her Arithmancy text.  Normally she’d be chastising Ron for gossiping instead of doing his homework, but at this particular question, she looked expectantly at Harry.

 

“I’m not going to ask anyone,” Harry stubbornly kept his gaze on his own books, “I’ll be going by myself.”

 

“But… there must be someone…” Hermione insisted.

 

“There’s no one I know at Hogwarts that I like in that way.”  Harry tried to focus even more intently on the blur of words before him.  He knew, even before he had finished his sentence, that it was, technically, a lie.  But he would sooner face Voldemort at that moment than admit that he’d happily spend the evening in the company of Oliver Wood.  It’s just typical of my life, Harry thought bitterly.  Being as normal as ever, I can only find a male member of the teaching faculty… inspiring… Fed up with feeling uncomfortable, he decided to redirect the conversation.   And in return for their inquisition, he fully intended to leave his friends feeling just as uncomfortable.  “So, who are you two asking?  Hermione?  Ron?”

 

Ron spluttered at this.  Harry knew full well that Ron still hadn’t worked up the courage to ask Hermione yet.  Harry also knew that Hermione was waiting for Ron to hurry up and ask her.  So why wasn’t their mutual attraction screamingly obvious to them?

 

“Come on, Hermione, you said who you wanted to go with was a secret.  We’re your friends; you’re supposed to tell us.”  Hermione blushed, and Harry continued.  “Are you actually going to ask him, or are you waiting to be asked?”

 

“I… I’m waiting, for the moment,” Hermione looked up at Harry with uncertainty in her eyes, “but I don’t know how much patience I have…”

 

“What about you, Ron?”  Ron glared at Harry.  “Have you asked anyone yet?”

 

“No, you know I haven’t, Harry.  Don’t be a git.”

 

“Well, I’m a tired ‘git’, and I’m off to bed.  ‘Night, you two.”  He gathered up his books and stood.

 

“But Harry, we agreed to spend time studying tonight…” Hermione protested, looking up at him.

 

“I know, but I can’t stop yawning.  I don’t think I can concentrate anymore.  You two stay here; I’ll be okay.”

 

Hermione glanced down at her text, and Ron took the opportunity to pull another face at Harry, letting his friend know exactly how he felt.  In response to this, Harry couldn’t help but add one more snide comment before finally leaving. 

 

“Oh, Ron, about the ball, I wouldn’t take too long if I were you.  You never know, she might run out of patience and go with someone else…”

 

Ron was fuming and Hermione was blushing as Harry bounded out to the corridor with a huge grin on his face.  He didn’t manage to get far before being accosted, though.  Luna Lovegood cornered him at the end of the corridor, and she was also interested in who Harry was intending to take to the ball.  Oh please don’t let Luna want to ask me to the ball… he thought.  Although, he suspected, if she did, she’d probably be the one person in the school not to be disgruntled at him turning her down.  After all, she never seemed to take offence at anything.

 

“I’ve decided to go on my own,” he informed her.  “Although not everyone is willing to accept this…”

 

“Personally, I don’t blame you.”  Luna looked at him sympathetically.  “There is no one here I like so much that I’d be prepared to endure a couple of hours of ‘ball-torture’ with them.  I know I’m not popular, but people are still hassling me, and I’m fed up with it.  I don’t know how you cope, having the extra magnetism as The Boy Who Lived luring them to you in their hundreds…” She waggled her eyebrows at him.  He smiled and nodded at her keen, if somewhat exaggerated, observation. 

 

“So, neither you nor I want to go with anyone,” Luna continued.  “We’re both fed up with people asking us, although I suspect you have a better reason than I do…” Harry found the way she looked at him, as she said this, puzzling.  “Anyway, why don’t we just agree to go with each other, in the hope that it might shut everyone up?  We don’t have to spend any time together on the night.  What do you say?”

 

“Er… Okay,” Harry felt a bit taken aback by this seemingly benign opportunity.  Then, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet before asking.  “Um… what do you mean by me having ‘a better reason’?”  He couldn’t help but ask, although he felt that he wouldn’t like the answer.

 

“I’m not blind, although most people in this school appear to be.  I’ve caught you a couple of times, looking on in admiration at a certain ex-student.  Especially at the Quidditch match…”

 

Harry couldn’t restrain the look of guilt on his face as he struggled in vain for a way of denying it.  “I… I wasn’t…”

 

“Don’t you dare, Harry Potter!  I’m not that stupid,” she declared, grinning at Harry’s discomfort.  “And I won’t tell, either, so you can take that look of panic off your face.  Although, personally, I don’t see what the big deal is.”

 

“Well, you would say that, Luna!  You never seem to care for what people say about you.  Personally, I don’t enjoy the prospect of being the central topic of any more gossip than I already am...”

 

“I suppose you have to put up with a lot more than I do,” she conceded.  “Anyway, I have to go.  I’ve got to get to the library and take a book out before Pince closes up for the night.” 

 

Luna then waved at him and promptly walked back the way Harry had come.  He let out a sigh, feeling relieved that at least the issue of the ball had been settled.

 

On the way down to breakfast the next day, Ron and Hermione admitted to Harry that they would be going to the ball together.  He smirked at this and laughed at the dirty looks they threw at him.  Ron was less than impressed when Harry informed them of his date, and Hermione seemed to be seriously considering that there might be something going on between Harry and Luna.

 

“But Luna?  How could you even consider it?  She’s… weird,” Ron said in disgust around a mouthful of toast.

 

“She’s not that bad, Ron… and we’ve only agreed to do it to get everyone off our backs.”

 

Ron shook his head condescendingly at Harry.  “At times like these, I have to ask myself just how well I really know you!”

 

     Luckily for Harry, he only had to put up with Ron’s disbelief for another week before the ball was upon them.  It certainly proved to be gossip-worthy, unfortunately for some, and Harry was more than a little upset to see Ginny being dragged into the proceedings. 

 

Dean had asked Ginny to go with him, which was what everyone had expected since they had been dating for a few months now.  People were also expecting several drunken students, thanks to the spiked punch bowl at the back of the hall.  Harold Dingle was carefully guarding the punch, and he was taking ‘donations’ from all those who wanted to indulge.  What Harry wasn’t expecting to see was a distraught Ginny, bursting into tears and running from the hall. 

 

It had occurred during a brief conversation that Harry was sharing with Ron.  As expected, Ron and Hermione had been in their own unapproachable world all evening, but Ron had wandered over to say hello when Hermione went to the toilet.  When Ginny raced by, they exchanged a look and began to look round the hall for Dean.  He was soon spotted, leaning up against someone on the back wall; he was obviously quite drunk, and he kept stumbling from one foot to the other in a bid to keep upright.  Ron’s eyes narrowed, and he stormed off towards them with Harry trailing after.  As they came closer, they had another surprise.  The person, who Dean was fully pressed up against, including his lips, turned out to be an even more intoxicated Seamus.  Dean was evidently having so much trouble with his own balance because he was busy trying to keep the both of them upright.  Ron pulled Dean and Seamus apart and promptly hit Dean in the face.

 

“What the hell do you think you are doing to my sister?”  Ron asked in a rage, moving back a couple of steps to take a swing at Seamus—who by now had sunk to the floor—but at that point several members of staff intervened, and the ball was called to an abrupt end.

 

Back in their dormitory, Ron was furious.  He had no one to vent his anger on, as both Dean and Seamus had been sent to the hospital wing.

 

“How the hell could he do that to Ginny?  Either of them!  And… ugh!  That was just so gross.  They sleep in our dorm, Harry…”

 

Harry was sitting, mutely, on the edge of his own bed, listening to Ron rant, and watching him pace back and forth.

 

“They’re both male… ugh… that’s just abnormal…”

 

Inside, Harry felt completely quashed.  If he had ever wanted to talk to his friends about the confusion he felt towards Oliver Wood, it was now.  But that was suddenly no longer an option; Ron would just assume that he was trying to defend Dean, and Harry certainly didn’t think Dean needed defending.  As far as Harry was concerned, Dean’s encounter with Ron’s fist was well deserved.  How could Dean do that when he was going out with Ginny?

 

But over the next couple of weeks, Harry couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for Dean.  Seamus had managed to pass all the blame onto him.  This was due to the extent of Seamus’ intoxicated state and the fact that he did seem genuinely horrified the next day, when someone informed him of events he claimed to have no memory of.  Seamus spent a lot of time loudly telling others how much Dean had betrayed their friendship, especially when Dean was within earshot.  Not only was Dean suitably squashed for cheating on Ginny, but he also received a barrage of insults concerning his choice of gender.  Now, any talk of sexuality amongst students of Hogwarts was interminably negative towards that persuasion.  Some people were more outspoken on the subject than others, and not all participated, Harry included.  Yet again, he was hiding something from Ron and Hermione, something Ron definitely thought was wrong and Hermione seemingly never wanted to discuss.

 

Harry had had enough.  He decided that he really needed to talk to someone, someone who wouldn’t leave him feeling like he was an outcast waiting to happen, which was exactly how he felt at the moment.  Before, he would have gone to Sirius about something like this…  In the absence of his godfather, Harry opted for the next best thing: his godfather’s friend, Remus Lupin.  Harry believed it was at least worth broaching the subject and finding out the Professor’s opinion of Dean first.  And so he went up to Lupin’s office after dinner one evening where he found the man marking homework.

 

“Er, Professor…” Harry stepped uneasily into the room.

 

“Hello, Harry,” Professor Lupin said, smiling warmly as he looked up from his desk.

 

“I was wondering if I may talk to you about something… If this is a bad time,” Harry nodded towards the paperwork on the desk, “I could come back later…”

 

“No, no, now is fine. This doesn’t have to be finished for another three days.”  The Professor sat back from his work and gave Harry his full attention.  “What can I help you with? This week’s assignment?”

 

“No, it’s… personal.  But I don’t want to put you behind with your work... I’ll come back another time.”

 

“You won’t put me behind, Harry,” Lupin insisted, motioning for Harry to take a seat.  “What’s on your mind?”

 

“I don’t know if you’ve heard any of the rumours, but Dean’s been getting a lot of hassle lately…” Harry trailed off, waiting to find out how much Remus knew.

 

“Ah, yes.  The man who upset the proverbial ‘Weasley apple cart’.”

 

“Yes.  But it’s not just that he cheated on Ginny.  It’s also because he cheated on her with Seamus.”

 

“Seamus?”  Lupin raised his eyebrows in an amused fashion.  “I guess I’ve missed out on some of the gossip.  I must say he’s a bit silly to ‘out’ himself like that.  It’s not a very nice way of drawing attention to it.”  He studied Harry for a moment before continuing.  “I’d guess that he’s also inadvertently made it harder on some of the other students, as well.”

 

“So you don’t think that side of it is abnormal?”  Harry asked, needing confirmation that his feelings weren’t fundamentally wrong.

 

“Absolutely not!”  Lupin looked at Harry fondly.  “Just because it might not be the topic of everyday conversation doesn’t mean that same-sex relationships don’t happen, or that they shouldn’t exist.”

 

Harry looked at him with a carefully composed neutral expression and nodded.  He wanted to tell Remus everything, wanted to just pour it all out, but it was just so hard to start talking.  Where would he begin?  What if Remus thought that Harry had a crush on him?  Just as Harry resigned himself that what had been said so far would have to do, Professor Lupin continued.

 

“Harry, if you can’t talk to your friends because of all this… you do know you can talk to me, don’t you?”

 

Harry felt relief wash through him.  “Thank you, sir.  I… I…” Harry grappled for a way to let it all out.  “I’ve wanted to talk about this for ages.  After the Malaclaw bit me, I just assumed I was attracted to… to someone because it had something to do with my bad luck!  Then, after it had worn off and I still liked them, I realised that it wasn’t.  Then, with the ball, everyone was hassling me, either wanting to go with me or wanting to know who I was planning to ask…” he trailed off.

 

“And you couldn’t say that the person you wanted to go with was male?”

 

“Sort of...”

 

Remus creased his brows at this and smiled.  “Sort of?  Now you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

 

Harry mentally kicked himself for not having just said ‘yes.’  “He… I… He wasn’t someone who I could ask.  I mean, I found him attractive, but it’s not exactly feasible, he’s a bit older and he’s like a te… And I think he’s straight, anyway, and it’s only ever been a crush… I hated it at first, but now I think it’s just… opened up the possibilities for me…” More mental damnation sounded around Harry’s head, this time for waffling.  Harry looked up and found Remus chuckling.

 

“So, you’ve begun to see Oliver Wood in a new light?”  Harry’s blush readily gave the answer away to Remus’s question.  “Don’t worry, Harry.  I certainly won’t betray your confidence, and I can appreciate the difference between affection and attraction.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, we all feel attraction to others, in one way or another.  It’s in our genes: an inbuilt survival chip for propagation of the next generation, if you like.  You’re attracted to Oliver’s physical features even though, since he’s returned, you haven’t spent any time getting to know the rest of him.  It’s normal, as long as you don’t let yourself get carried away by it.  Don’t be afraid of attraction, Harry; you don’t have to act on it.  As for affection… well, that comes from knowing another person, and when you feel it, don’t ever let others stop you from having it.”

 

“So you don’t think I’m a freak?”

 

“Being a werewolf, I think it would be a bit hypocritical of me to label you as a freak,” Lupin replied.  “I don’t think it’s that unusual to want to explore the possibilities of being attracted to your own gender.”

 

     “Er… thank-you, sir.”  Harry stammered, trying to take in all that had been said to him.  He made a quick exit and wandered back towards the common room.

 

As he walked, he began to think over what Remus had said.  Harry certainly felt less afraid of his being attracted to a man, but whether he’d ever get over his embarrassment enough to tell any of his close friends was a different matter.  Maybe he wouldn’t have to, he hoped; perhaps the next person he felt attracted to would be a girl.  Harry wondered whether this was what the Professor was trying to imply: what he felt now was attraction because Oliver was a man, and when he felt the same towards a girl then it would be affection.  But this didn’t quite seem to make sense to Harry, and he was sure it couldn’t be right: Remus couldn’t have meant that.  All these thoughts led to other questions in Harry’s mind.  How did Professor Lupin know all of this?  Was there someone who Remus felt affection for?  Another man, perhaps?  Was that why there’d never been a mention of a Mrs Lupin?  Harry began to consider all the men that Remus had seemed close to.  His steps suddenly slowed to a halt as he realised Sirius appeared to be the main candidate, and Harry put an abrupt end to that train of thought.  If his assumption was correct, he wouldn’t mind, but it did make him feel uncomfortable.  He decided it would be more constructive to be thinking about his own love life rather than jumping to conclusions about Professor Lupin’s, or that of his godfather. 

 

 

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