Harry is cornered on his way to class. He's shoved into an empty classroom and pulls out his wand before he has time to think, only knowing that he's being ambushed.

"Woah!" exclaims someone, and Harry lowers his wand, recognizing the voice as Ron's.

Harry sighs, ruffling his hair, looking at Ron, and Hermione, who are both staring him down. As if he's hiding something and they both know it. Well, thinks Harry, my secret isn't much of a secret; I push my friends away because they're my friends, because to keep them close is to endanger them; anyone could figure it out...

And I suspect Malfoy is starting to.

Ever since their detention, Malfoy has not only stopped insulting him, but also started acting awry, as if distracted. Harry sometimes catch hims staring, and Harry wants to snap back what the fuck are you looking at? only that isn't exactly fair to Malfoy (a sentence Harry never thought he'd catch himself thinking) because malfoy did what Harry wanted him to do during their detention.

and that was to watch as Harry painstakingly carved letter after letter into his skin. He remained aware at all times of Malfoy's eyes on him and Harry was empowered by it, determined not to give away any gasp of pain. It's as if to say, 'I get it, Malfoy; I get that you and I are both powerless to stop this, but this is not a loss. We're not losing.' It's as if Harry is declaring, 'I'm a person, too,' and now Malfoy is aware of it.

And how aware he is -- pity is etched into his every expression and right now, Harry is too damn exhausted to want anything different Pity is good. It means Malfoy is leaving him the hell alone.

Malfoy only had the one detention -- it was a warning, after all, and not a punishment -- but Harry, after his rambling, got a whole week's worth and he thinks the emotional exhaustion will kill him if the blood loss doesn't first.

So when he stands, cornered by his two best friends, and Hermione asks him sternly, "What is wrong?", Harry can't help the way tears cascade down his face.

Ron goes to give an awkward hug and Harry, remembering himself, pushes him away. "Nothing is wrong," Harry says, sniffling.

"You're crying," Hermione deadpans.

Harry hurries to wipe the tears from his eyes. "So?" he says defensively.

"So something is obviously wrong," Ron shuffles. "You can tell us, you know. We're your best friends." He sounds sad when he says it, like he knows Harry wants to challenge this.

Harry doesn't. "You are," he admits, clearing his throat, embarrassed now by his sudden sadness. "But I don't think we should be anymore."

Hermione blinks at him. "Has Umbridge gotten to your head? Spent too much time with her and now you're not thinking straight, I'd say."

You have no idea, thinks Harry, but he says, "It's not like that. I just don't think that we should be friends."

"Why?" demands Hermione.

Harry shrugs. "I don't like you anymore." It is a lie. He loves them dearly. That is why he's doing this.

But Ron does not cower or become angry, like Harry expects him to. He instead turns to Hermione and goes, "So this is definitely a self isolating, self destructive behaviour, right?"

And Hermione goes, "Yeah, that's right."

Haryr balks. "What? No, I'm no self-des--"

"We might not have talked to you in a while," says Ron, "but we're not stupid. You're not a stranger."

"I," Harry falters. They're not reacting like expected them to -- or how he wanted them to. This isn't good. "I... it doesn't matter. We're not friends anymore." There. No way to argue with that, is there?

But of course Hermione finds a way. She grabs him by the arm as AHarry reaches for the door handle and syas, "Nope. Not allowing that. Talk to us, Harry."

"No."

"Why?"

"Do I have to have a reason not to want to talk to people?"

"Generally, yes."

Harry sighs, throwing his hands out. "I'm trying to protect you, okay?"

Hermione also sighs, releasing him. She shares a look with Ron. "So it's as I expected," she murmurs softly.

Harry is in shock. "What are you talking about?"

She shrugs. "Well, we were wondering why you were pushing us away, and I did guess that it was because of a misguided desire to protect us, because by associating with you, you'd be 'putting us in danger.'"

He knew he wasn't exactly subtle, but this is ridiculous. "So you understand why we can't be friends then," he says, letting out a breath of relief. Finally, they're getting somewhere.

"Now where did I say that?" Mione, always the difficult one.

Harry goes mute.

She rubs his arm with her hand. "Face it, Harry," she chides, "You're stuck with us. Whether you like it or not."

And Harry decidedly does not.

But...

... Mione, standing before him now, is fierce. She's angry and kind and intelligent. Harry loves her for all the reasons she's laid out for him now and more -- she deserves the world. And Harry, he's selfish.

He misses her. Is that selfish? To miss her? Harry thinks it is.

And so he wraps his arms around her and says, "Okay."

She hugs him back. Ron joins in. "Okay?" she says.

"Okay."

She pulls back. "Fill us in on the Harry Potter experience. Why are you acting so weird? First with Malfoy on the train, then sitting with him during the Welcoming Feast, and then with your outburst in Professor Umrbidge's class."

"You know she deserved it."

"Does it matter? It's not like you."

"What an arbitrary measure," says Harry, titling his head. "I think you don't know who I am. I think I'm just figuring out who I am myself"

"You're being melodramatic."

"I'm being real."

"No," says Ron. "You're being melodramatic."

Harry cracks a smile, but his heart isn't in it. "I feel like I'm broken," he admits quietly. "Like there is something wrong inside of me. I feel haunted. I can't enjoy things. I can't believe that I'm allowed to." He bites his lip. "What is wrong with me?"

Hermione looks contemplative. "I don't know," she says. "But we'll figure it out."

"Together?" Harry prompts.

Hermione intertwines her hands with his. "Together," she parrots.