I Beg Your Pardon, Potter?

Chapter 46

"When I had said I was excited to see my future," Ron said at lunch. "I hadn't really thought that it might be more serious than just whether or not I made it as an Auror." Pansy's vision of Ron's life had been less dark than Draco's vision, but not by much. Again, Harry had died, and again Voldemort had worked to consolidate power, but he had done it in a much more insidious way.

Muggles hadn't been imprisoned, but there was so much anti-Muggle propaganda that there were many "unexplained" Muggle deaths. Diagon Alley and the surrounding area had been expanded as Muggles had been moved from their homes, either by force or coercion. Muggle-born students were no longer allowed at Hogwarts - something which Hermione had fumed at Ron about over dinner. It had been a secret dinner that both Blaise and Pansy had been at, as they were unable to meet in public with either of them due to Hermione being Muggle-born and Ron's blood traitor status.

"At least we were still friends," Ron said when Pansy told him about that part. "I might have assumed you would just drop us."

"We were still dating, actually," Pansy said testily.

"Even better."

"Though for the life of me, I can't see why right now." She put her nose in the air. Ron's face fell and she smirked at him. "I'm kidding."

"You really had me going for a moment there." He put his arm around her and squeezed her close.

While the six of them were still getting some strange looks from the rest of the student body, they had emboldened others to sit wherever they wanted. Neville was an almost constant fixture at the Hufflepuff table, having officially starting dating Claudia - the girl who none of the rest of them had heard of until Neville had introduced them. Ron still wasn't one hundred percent sure which one she was.

Harry was glad that this meant he could see Draco more often, but he still wished they could be more open about their feelings for each other. He knew they couldn't, but every time Ron put his arm around Pansy, or Hermione smiled at Blaise in that particular way, it hurt. He ached to be able to lean his head on Draco's shoulder, and instead had to restrict himself to resting his leg against Draco's, or finding some other subtle way of getting discreet physical contact with him.

"What did you see, 'Mione?" Ron asked, turning his attention from Pansy back to the group.

"Something not too far off of what Pansy saw. We were in hiding, trying to come up with ways to kill Voldemort, but all the time feeling like it was too late. People had already swallowed his propaganda, and so the problem was bigger than just Voldemort, with random Muggle killings and the like." She sighed. "I just don't understand it. How can people dehumanize each other like that?"

"I'm not sure it's a conscious thing," Blaise said, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Was I the only one who saw anything remotely happy?" Harry asked.

"I think so," Blaise said. "Mine was pretty bleak too."

"So the only happy future is one where I survive?"

"I would have thought that was obvious," Draco snapped. "How could any of us be happy if you're not here?"

"Well, you weren't alive in mine," Ron said. "But neither was Voldemort. A lot of people died. My vision was directly after the war, or whatever, ended. Pansy was, uh, crying over me. I'd died, you see. And there was just an entire field strewn with bodies." He shuddered. "It was awful."

"Oh god," Hermione said. "I hope it doesn't come to that." They lapsed into silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Finally Harry put his knife and fork down.