Chapter 4: Harry and the Fucking Nutter
If these walls could talk, they'd probably be telling everyone how much they love it when you give them an "S" on a paper."
But the walls were just telling him not to say that and not to act on his feelings, which were, for the most part, well-received, even if he could see how much they worried him. He had always liked Harry and it was hard to think of any of them as more perfect than each other.
"You're still working on your magic homework, aren't you?" Ginny asked, looking up from her book. "You haven't been to the library yet?"
"I'm waiting for Mum to come to pick me up and bring me to Hogsmeade to go shopping, yeah." He said with a grin.
"Good." Ginny laughed.
He sat up a bit straighter and looked at her. "I'm just thinking… you should ask Ginny if she has any ideas. I'm not sure if I'd even want to be her friend anymore… she's a fucking nutter."
"Maybe I'm wrong."
"Maybe you're right."
"That was some of the most stupid shit I've heard you say in a long time."
"You didn't even think I would listen to that."
"You do care," Ron said. "You said you do."
"Do I want to know what you've been doing?" she asked.
"No," he said.
"Do you want to know what I've been doing?" she asked.
"Are you sure? It's not like you're going to run out and tell anyone…"
"I know it's stupid, Ron, but… you're not going to get anything out of me."
The blonde was quiet for a moment and, despite himself, he found himself thinking about something.
"I can give you that." He said, almost casually.
Hermione's face fell at that, and she sat in the seat next to Harry, watching with narrowed eyes as he went back to his book.
"Why?" she whispered, her voice growing quieter and quieter.
"Because I don't have a problem with you being naked, Hermione." He replied, his eyes still fixed on the page.
She bit her lip, but said nothing.
"And that's all I'm going to say." He said, and it was then that she realized what he'd meant.
"But I don't know how." She said: 'My son is a very good lad, who I was proud to have on my bike.
'He loves the sport, he is just one of those kids who enjoys the bike and the excitement of being a professional cyclist.
'I just wish I had not lost him, it would have been a happier life for us all.
'We were driving home when I saw the police car. The policeman stopped and spoke to us. I was just so angry.
'It has completely changed our lives. It could have been so different. He was only 16 and in cycling training.'
Mrs Withers added: 'I have spoken to the police to say it could have been avoided. I don't want my son to get killed in the same way, but it was the only way he could have got home and the police should do everything they can.'
"It is not I who is mad! It is I who is crazy!" -- Ren Hoek
Freedom of choice
Is what you got
Freedom from choice
Is what you want