Ron is especially bitter this morning.

Neville's exclamation of delight at his ability to bend a fork without using his wand is dampened by Ron's quiet "It's not enough to kill a Death Eater."

Neville seems to break at these words. His smile falls, his shoulders sag, tears line his eyes. He stares brokenly at the fork, the words not enough glowing in his brown eyes.

Harry snaps.

"Shut the fuck up, Ron."

Ron's head snaps up. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Harry's voice is getting louder. "I am so sick and tired of your bullshit. It is totally okay to grieve, we're all with you, everyone's lost someone. But you're being a dick to everyone and I'm sick and fucking tired of it."

"Then why don't you leave?" Ron shouts. "Why don't you leave and go sit at the Slytherin table with Malfoy? It seems like you're spending all your time with him anyways."

Harry stands roughly, knocking over his glass.

"Maybe I fucking will," he hisses.

"We all know you're gay mate, but Malfoy's a bit much," Ron says, louder. He has stood up as well, his face the same shade as his hair.

Harry freezes.

"Do not ever attempt to use my sexuality against me for your own gain," he replies, his cold voice ringing throughout the Great Hall. "You know it's not like that."

"And why shouldn't I think that?" Ron asks. All voices have stopped talking except theirs now, all eyes on them. "Sneaking out late at night to meet him, coming back with that stupid smile, not giving us details? Seems like you two are fucking to me."

Harry feels anger, white hot, course through his veins. Ron of all people was supposed to be the person to support him no matter what.

The glasses on the table are shaking now, clattering against each other. Harry knows his magic is getting out of control, but a part of him is impressed that he is able to do that.

Suddenly, there is a pale hand on his shoulder, and a cool voice in his ear. "Potter, don't."

The presence is there again, the other magic, Malfoy's magic. Although this time, instead of aiming toward destruction, it spreads calm. Peace.

The glasses stop shaking, Harry takes a few deep breaths, and Ron's terrified expression turns to one of rage once more.

"So it's more than fucking then," he says coldly. "Fine, Harry. Have fun with your Death Eater boy toy."

Malfoy's energy turns into what can only be explained as white-hot anger at the insinuation of being a Death Eater, and Harry channels that as he wandlessly throws Ron to the ground.

Malfoy's hand disappears from his shoulder instantly, and Harry feels the rush of energy fade just as quickly as it had come, and he is once again just himself.

"Holy shit," Malfoy breathes.

"Mr. Potter! Detention!" McGonagall shouts, but Harry couldn't care less.

As he stares at Ron's groaning form sitting up, he can't help but wonder if he's a monster.