Chapter Text
Day 1
In hindsight, Harry should have questioned the appearance of the unfamiliar door. He had walked down that particular passageway of Hogwarts many times before and the door had not been there. But, in a fortuitous (or perhaps unfortunate) twist of fate, Harry's mind was on other matters that morning, and he failed to register the strangeness of the door's existence.
"Did Ron sleep late again?" Hermione had greeted him when he arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast.
Harry gave her a meaningful look. "No, he went to the infirmary to ask Madam Pomfrey for some help with the wounds on his face."
He didn't mention the fact that the wounds were Hermione's fault. They both knew who was responsible for the flock of canaries that had attacked Ron the previous night.
A flicker of guilt crossed over Hermione's features, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a hardened expression as she stated, "Well, I'm sure he'll be fine. Lavender will be more than happy to kiss it all better for him."
Harry sighed. He'd come to the conclusion that the saying "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" was doubly true in the case of teenage witches. And despite his wish to restore peace between his two friends, he had no desire to be caught in the crossfire, so he decided to change the subject.
"I think you're right about Slughorn's Christmas party," he told her. "I don't think I'll be able to dodge that one."
Hermione nodded sagely. "I have no doubt he'll corner you in potions today to ask about it. It's really not so bad though, Harry. Just put in an appearance and he'll be happy."
Harry shrugged, finding the entire affair an unnecessary burden in what was already turning out to be a stressful year for him.
The passageways of Hogwarts had been newly decorated for Christmas, and students were moving more slowly than usual as they walked to their classes, enjoying the festive decor gracing the stone walls and the trimmed Christmas trees popping up at the intersections of the hallways.
Harry and Hermione were halfway to their potions class when he spotted the danger ahead: a group of girls standing a little ways ahead of them, engrossed in conversation. Harry recognized Romilda Vane's long dark curls from the back as she stood speaking to the others.
"Fuck," he muttered. It was bad enough that Vane had recently cornered him alone to overtly flirt with him and drop hints about her wish to go to Slughorn's Christmas party. He had no desire to repeat the experience with a group of her girlfriends along as well.
Harry darted a look around and noticed a long, thin wooden door ensconced in the gray stone walls of the hallway. There was no one walking behind them. If he and Hermione hid for a minute in the cupboard, they could avoid Vane and her friends and no one would be the wiser. Harry acted quickly, reaching for Hermione's hand and yanking her with him towards the door.
"Harry! What—"began Hermione.
"Shh," he said, turning the doorknob and inwardly rejoicing when he found it unlocked. "Vane will hear you."
He was grateful for Hermione's intelligence then, because she immediately grasped the situation and followed him into the dark recesses of the broom cupboard rather than protesting further. The interior of the cupboard was as narrow as its door, with a few empty shelves along the wall, but no other furnishings or objects visible. Harry quietly closed the door behind them.
"I don't remember this room being here before," Hermione whispered in the darkness.
"Well, it's a broom cupboard," whispered Harry in response. "We probably just didn't pay any attention to it before. They tend to blend into the background."
"Hmm, maybe," said Hermione, but Harry could tell she was still thinking about it, probably scouring her memories for any indication that she'd seen their current hiding place before.
"Do you think there's a lamp in here?" she asked.
"Probably not, but we won't be in here long enough for it to matter. I'm sure Vane and her friends will move on in a minute."
"Whether they leave or not, I'm not staying in here too long Harry. I don't want to be late to class."
"No, I know, we won't be."
Harry placed his ear next to the door, listening for sounds on the other side. It was eerily silent; he couldn't hear any signs of life from the hallway. That was odd. He would have expected to hear something. The door hadn't seemed thick enough to prevent sound from carrying through.
Harry placed his hand on the doorknob, deciding to venture a peek outside to check if the coast was clear. When he tried to turn it though, the doorknob remained fixed in place, as though locked. Harry jiggled it to no avail.
"Is it locked?" came Hermione's panicked whisper.
Harry put a little force into his movement, thinking the doorknob might be stuck. It didn't budge.
"Looks that way," he answered. Hermione's hand brushed against his as she attempted the same thing and received the same result.
"Aarrgh," she said, sounding frustrated. "We're going to be late."
"Yeah, sorry," mumbled Harry.
"Hold on, I’ll cast a lumos," said Hermione. "And maybe we can find something in here to get the door unlocked."
No sooner had the words left her mouth than the obstinate doorknob turned, and the door creaked open a crack, letting a sliver of light shine into the cupboard. Harry jumped back, colliding with Hermione in the process. He was expecting whoever had opened the door from the outside to appear at any moment…but no one did.
"Er," began Harry, staring in astonishment at the door. "Did that door just open itself?"
"It appears so." Hermione sounded just as surprised as he was.
"Yeah, that's not ominous at all," said Harry drily.
He opened the door the rest of the way and peered outside. The hallway was still and quiet, no sign of other students or professors around.
"Come on," he said. "I think everyone's in their classes already."
Hermione didn't have to be told twice. By the time Harry finished closing the door, she had already scurried ahead down the hallway and he had to trot to catch up to her.
"Miss Granger. Mr. Potter. You're late for class today," said Professor Slughorn, casting a reproving look their way as they entered his classroom. "Ten points from Gryffindor each."
They both uttered subdued apologies before taking their seats in front of their cauldrons. Harry gazed over at Ron, whose face looked much improved over the previous night. Ron gave him a quizzical look, clearly curious over why he and Hermione had arrived late. Harry mouthed a discreet "later" at him, meant to convey that he would fill him in after class ended, and Ron nodded in acknowledgment.
As he'd expected, Slughorn approached him once the class had dismissed for the day.
"Harry, I'm sure you've heard by now that I'm planning a Christmas party for the Slug Club," he said.
"Yes, Professor," replied Harry.
"And I'm happy to choose a day on which you can attend. There are other things in life besides quidditch, dear boy. This will be quite an advantageous social event for you to be a part of."
"Yes, of course, Professor. Thank you," said Harry, knowing he had no other recourse but to accept.
"Excellent, excellent," said Slughorn. "Well, I'll let you go now. Wouldn't want you to be late for your next class as well."
Harry didn't have a chance to speak to Ron until lunch that day. Lavender was constantly by Ron's side during any free time between classes, fawning over the scratches he still had on his hands and bemoaning the fact that he'd been the victim of such a senseless wildlife attack.
"So you didn't tell Lavender the truth about what happened?" Harry asked him as they sat down for lunch. Hermione had grabbed an apple for herself and left the Great Hall, telling Harry she needed to study. Harry had simply nodded, pretending to believe her flimsy excuse for not eating with them.
"Tell her that Hermione's gone mental? No. Lavender's already jealous enough of her. No need to add fuel to the fire."
Harry thought it was a good decision on Ron's part. He'd noticed Lavender and Parvati glancing reproachfully at Hermione a few times that day.
"Why were the two of you late to class this morning?" asked Ron between bites of stew.
Harry leaned closer to him and lowered his voice as he said, "We were hiding from Romilda Vane in a broom cupboard and the door got stuck for a moment."
"Why were you hiding from Vane?"
"Because she wants me to invite her to the Christmas party, and she's not being subtle about it."
Harry half expected Ron to make a face at the mention of Slughorn's party, but Ron's jealousy had apparently been pacified by his new attachment to Lavender because he didn't react at all to that detail.
"Why don't you just go with her then?"
"Because I don't want to lead her on."
Ron shrugged. "She's not bad-looking."
Harry couldn't tell him the truth—that Ginny was the only girl who interested him at the moment—so he deflected with a generic, "She's not my type."
Ron thankfully moved on from the topic, choosing instead to launch into a highlight reel of his favorite moments from the previous day's quidditch game.
~
After an uneventful afternoon of class, Harry joined a few of his dormmates in the Gryffindor common room before heading to the Great Hall for dinner. He was sitting between Ron and Neville when he noticed Hermione quietly making her way towards the staircase that led to the girls' dormitory.
Harry sprang up and caught up with her just as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Are you not coming to dinner with us?" he asked.
Hermione shot a pointed look in Ron's direction. "No, I'm not hungry."
Harry sighed. "Look, you can't avoid him forever. Might as well join us and get it over with. And you must be hungry if all you've had since breakfast was an apple."
Hermione's determination wavered; he could see it in the way her jaw unclenched just a little.
"Fine," she said. "I'll just come to eat something and then I'm coming back to my room."
"Alright."
The Great Hall was bustling as usual during the dinner hour, but Harry and his friends weren't part of the revelry. Both Ron and Hermione ate in stony-faced silence. Ron's only comment upon seeing her was to mumble, "Yeah, my face is alright now, thanks."
To which Hermione had simply frowned and asked Harry a question about their most recent Charms assignment. Harry had no doubt she already knew the answer to the question, but had asked it simply to avoid engaging with Ron.
Sitting between the two of them, Harry entertained himself in midst of the heavy silence by surreptitiously observing the group of Slytherin students at a neighboring table. Draco Malfoy had missed the previous day's quidditch game because of a mysterious "illness". Harry had wondered whether he'd be holed up in his room for the entirety of the day, but the git had shown up at his classes as usual, answering his friends’ inquiries about his health with a muttered excuse about having "a headache".
Harry watched him eat now, his blond head bent over his plate of meat pie with a despondent expression on his face. His friends were talking and laughing around him, but Malfoy didn't appear to be paying them any attention, instead picking at his food as though he were forcing himself to eat.
Clearly being evil wasn't everything it was cracked up to be.
Harry was secretly glad when dinner ended; his meal had been much less enjoyable than usual, thanks to the fraught silence of his friends.
Hermione darted off ahead of him and Ron when they rose from their table, clearly disinterested in spending any more time with Ron than required. As he and Ron rounded the corner leading to the Gryffindor dormitories they encountered Ginny and Dean in an alcove, wrapped around one another similarly to how he and Ron had found them a few nights prior.
Ron cleared his throat loudly, which prompted Ginny to pull away slightly from Dean, shoot Ron a scathing glare, and spit out, "Oi hypocrite."
Ron reddened, but continued on his way without engaging further.
"It's different for me," explained Ron as they entered the common room. "She's too young for such things."
"She's only a year younger than us."
Ron frowned. "Whose side are you on anyways Harry?"
Harry sighed. He was growing rather weary of having to constantly choose sides.
When the time came to go to bed, Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he closed the curtains around his bed, looking forward to the end of this tension-filled day.