Harry searched carefully. Strange. Early in the morning, Malfoy was not in the Slytherin dormitory. He did not seem to be at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, eating breakfast. … He was nowhere near Snape, who was sitting in his study. … He wasn’t in any of the bathrooms or in the hospital wing. … Where was he?
Malfoy had disappeared again. Harry had lost count of how many tis this had happened. In the end, he gave up searching in frustration.
He should talk to Evan and the others about this. His intuition told him that Evan knew sothing.
“By the way, Ron, Evan and Hermione’s gifts are not in there. They’ll give them to you in person as a surprise,” he said, and suddenly rembered that he should also have taken out his own gift while having breakfast later.
“Yeah, surprise, got it, I like surprises,” said Ron thickly, holding up a box of Chocolate Cauldrons, “Want one?”
“No thanks,” Harry looked up and noticed that Neville had gone out, so he said, “Malfoy’s gone again!”
“Impossible,” said Ron, stuffing a second Cauldron into his mouth as he slid out of bed to get dressed. “Can’t have left the castle. Co on, hurry up. I can’t wait to see what surprises Evan and Hermione have for . What will they give ? Evan’s pretty well-off, so it should be decent.”
He quickly changed out of his pajamas and reached for a third Chocolate Cauldron.
“Hey, who gave you these? They actually taste pretty good…”
“Well, let’s go. We’ll have to go to Apparition lesson later,” Harry tapped the Marauder’s Map with his wand and muttered, “Mischief managed!”
When he got dressed and reached the dormitory door, he realized that Ron had not yet moved, but was leaning on his bedpost, holding a half-eaten Chocolate Cauldron in his hand, staring out of the rain-washed window with a strangely unfocused look on his face.
“Ron, co on. Breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry. I don’t feel like going.”
“What?” Harry stared at him. “Didn’t you just say you wanted to go down and see the birthday presents Evan and Hermione got you?”
“Birthday presents? I don’t really care about them,” Ron sighed. “They don’t an anything. It doesn’t matter.”
“Are you alright?” Harry looked at him suspiciously.
“I’m fine. I actually feel great,” Ron sighed again. “You… you wouldn’t understand!”
This conversation wasn’t making any sense. Harry looked at Ron, albeit puzzled. What was going on with him?
After a brief silence, Ron suddenly shouted, “Harry!”
“What?”
“Harry, I can’t stand it!”
“You can’t stand what?” asked Harry, now starting to feel definitely alard. Ron was rather pale and looked as though he was about to be sick.
“I can’t stop thinking about her!” said Ron hoarsely.
“Her? Who?” Harry was stunned, and soon realized that Ron might be talking about Lavender.
To be honest, he had not expected this and was not sure he wanted to hear it.
Ron had had so conflicts with Lavender recently, but this was not the first ti. Ron had had conflicts with many people. Except for Elaine who refused to forgive him, he finally got along well with everyone, so he and Lavender would definitely reconcile.
Maybe seeing the birthday gift Lavender had given him had softened his heart, and now he wanted to get back together!
But what was this? Acting all weird first thing in the morning?!
Friends they might be, but if Ron started calling Lavender “Lav-Lav,” he would have to put his foot down.
He had to end the topic, it was too embarrassing.
“I know you miss her,” said Harry, trying to put so common sense into the matter and calm Ron down. “That won’t stop you from having breakfast, will it? After you’ve had breakfast, you can go talk to her…” ɽàＮ𝘰βËŞ
“But I don’t think she knows I exist,” said Ron with a desperate gesture.
“What? Of course she knows you exist,” said Harry, bewildered. “She keeps snogging you, doesn’t she? It’s been more than a year, and I’ve seen it countless tis. What do you an she doesn’t know you exist? Wait… how exactly do you want her to ‘know’ — you don’t an…”
He abruptly stopped, suddenly getting the feeling that Ron was about to steer this conversation into that kind of topic — the kind of thing boys sotis talked about but definitely not first thing in the morning.
Was this really the right ti and place for this?
Besides, Harry really didn’t want to hear it. He had no interest in discussing the deeper aning of “existence” with Ron.
“Listen, Ron, I know you’re an adult now, and as long as she doesn’t object, I support whatever decisions you make. As your best friend, I’ll back you up no matter what step you want to take. But first, we are going to have breakfast.” Harry took a deep breath and said, “Now, hurry up.”
Ron still didn’t react, just blinked in surprise. “Who are you talking about?”
“Who are you talking about?” said Harry, with an increasing sense that all reason had dropped out of the conversation.
What was Ron trying to do? Was this discussion really necessary?!
If they absolutely had to talk about this, couldn’t it wait until they were lying in bed at night? That would at least be less awkward.
Harry looked around; there was no one else in the dormitory except the two of them.
Well, if Ron was determined to have this conversation right now… fine. It was his birthday, after all.
“Alright, Ron, I thought you were talking about La —”
“It’s Romilda Vane,” said Ron softly, interrupting Harry, and his whole face seed to illuminate as he said it, as though hit by a ray of purest sunlight. “I can’t stop thinking about her!”
They stared at each other for almost a whole minute, before Harry said, “This is a joke, right? You’re joking.”
“No, I think… Harry, I think I love her,” said Ron in a strangled voice. “I’m hopelessly in love with her.”
Harry’s eyes widened. This guy was completely hopeless!
Falling in love with Romilda Vane, what the hell was this, did Ron know what he was talking about?
“Okay, Ron,” said Harry, walking up to Ron to get a better look at the glazed eyes and the pallid complexion, “okay, so you’re sure you’re not joking? Because this isn’t funny… Say that again with a straight face.”
“I love her,” repeated Ron breathlessly. “Have you seen her hair, it’s all black and shiny and silky … and her eyes? Her big dark eyes? Oh, so beautiful and so charming and so lovely, and her…”
“This is really funny and everything,” said Harry impatiently. “Romilda Vane looks like a miniature troll, is this your taste? Joke’s over, Ron. Drop it.”
The mont the words left his mouth, wham — sothing hit him hard on the right ear.
Staggering, Harry looked around. Ron’s fist was drawn right back; his face was contorted with rage; he was about to strike again.
Crazy, absolutely crazy!
Then, before Harry could react, Ron’s fist swung at him, hitting him hard again…
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