Harry Potter 06 - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

friendship with Ron for anything. He punched his pillow into a more comfortable shape and waited for sleep to come, trying his utmost not to allow his thoughts to stray anywhere near Ginny.
    Harry awoke next morning feeling slightly dazed and confused by a series of dreams in which Ron had chased him with a Beater’s bat, but by midday he would have happily exchanged the dream Ron for the real one, who was not only cold-shouldering Ginny and Dean, but also treating a hurt and bewildered Hermione with an icy, sneering indifference. What was more, Ron seemed to have become, overnight, as touchy and ready to lash out as the average Blast-Ended Skrewt. Harry spent the day attempting to keep the peace between Ron and Hermione with no success: finally, Hermione departed for bed in high dudgeon and Ron stalked off to the boys’ dormitory after swearing angrily at several frightened first-years for looking at him.
    To Harry’s dismay, Ron’s new aggression did not wear off over the next few days. Worse still, it coincided with an even deeper dip in his Keeping skills, which made him still more aggressive, so that during the final Quidditch practice before Saturday’s match, he failed to save every single goal the Chasers aimed at him, but bellowed at everybody so much that he reduced Demelza Robins to tears.
    ‘You shut up and leave her alone!’ shouted Peakes, who was about two-thirds Ron’s height, though admittedly carrying a heavy bat.
    ‘ENOUGH!’ bellowed Harry, who had seen Ginny glowering in Ron’s direction and, remembering her reputation as an accomplished caster of the Bat-Bogey Hex, soared over to intervene before things got out of hand. ‘Peakes, go and pack up the Bludgers. Demelza, pull yourself together, you played really well today. Ron …’ he waited until the rest of the team were out of earshot before saying it, ‘you’re my best mate, but carry on treating the rest of them like this and I’m going to kick you off the team.’
    He really thought for a moment that Ron might hit him, but then something much worse happened: Ron seemed to sag on his broom; all the fight went out of him and he said, ‘I resign. I’m pathetic.’
    ‘You’re not pathetic and you’re not resigning!’ said Harry fiercely, seizing Ron by the front of his robes. ‘You can save anything when you’re on form, it’s a mental problem you’ve got!’
    ‘You calling me mental?’
    ‘Yeah, maybe I am!’
    They glared at each other for a moment, then Ron shook his head wearily.
    ‘I know you haven’t got any time to find another Keeper, so I’ll play tomorrow, but if we lose, and we will, I’m taking myself off the team.’
    Nothing Harry said made any difference. He tried boosting Ron’s confidence all through dinner, but Ron was too busy being grumpy and surly with Hermione to notice. Harry persisted in the common room that evening, but his assertion that the whole team would be devastated if Ron left was somewhat undermined by the fact that the rest of the team was sitting in a huddle in a distant corner, clearly muttering about Ron and casting him nasty looks. Finally, Harry tried getting angry again in the hope of provoking Ron into a defiant, and hopefully goal-saving, attitude, but this strategy did not appear to work any better than encouragement; Ron went to bed as dejected and hopeless as ever.
    Harry lay awake for a very long time in the darkness. He did not want to lose the upcoming match; not only was it his first as Captain, but he was determined to beat Draco Malfoy at Quidditch even if he could not yet prove his suspicions about him. Yet if Ron played as he had done in the last few practices, their chances of winning were very slim …
    If only there was something he could do to make Ron pull himself together … make him play at the top of his form … something that would ensure that Ron had a really good day …
    And the answer came to Harry in one, sudden, glorious stroke of inspiration.
    Breakfast was the usual excitable affair next morning; the Slytherins hissed and booed loudly as every member of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall. Harry glanced at the ceiling and saw a clear, pale blue sky: a good omen.
    The Gryffindor table, a solid mass of red and gold, cheered as Harry and Ron approached. Harry grinned and waved; Ron grimaced weakly and shook his head.
    ‘Cheer up, Ron!’ called Lavender. ‘I know you’ll be brilliant!’
    Ron ignored her.
    ‘Tea?’ Harry asked him.