Harry hopped through the entryway, the portrait swinging shut behind him. He noticed Hermione and Ron sitting across from each other in front of the fire. Ron, ignoring the book in his lap, spotted him and waved him over. "Hey mate," Harry greeted his friend.
"Harry, we've got our first match coming up, so I've scheduled some extra practices. We have one tomorrow at 5:00 and Sunday at 10:00 and Tuesday…"
"Whoa, mate," Harry interrupted. "I've got my class to teach on Sunday at that time, you know that."
"It was the only time that would work on Sunday," Ron told him. "It's just the younger class. You can cancel it this week or just move it or something. No problem."
"I can't just move the class, Ron. What would you do if your professors just randomly started moving their classes around to suit themselves? Moving it around would disrupt everybody's schedules. You can just do the practice without me. It's not as if you really need the seeker there, right?" Harry said reasonably.
"Well if you can't move it then just cancel it," Ron ordered, rising from his seat.
"I'm not canceling my class, Ron," Harry stated calmly, looking intently into Ron's eyes. "These classes are important; you know that."
"And Quidditch isn't?" the fiery redhead demanded.
"You know I love Quidditch Ron," Harry reassured him, trying to hold his own rising temper in check.
"We don't have much time left before our first match. Two weeks, Harry. We need to be ready. I will not start out the season with a loss to the Slytherins." Ron shivered as though the mere thought of such a thing happening disgusted him. "And I expect you to be at that practice. You have to decide what's more important to you: Quidditch or your class."
"It's an easy choice to make, mate," Harry replied in a subdued tone of voice, dreading what he was sure was about to happen. The last thing he wanted right now was another row with Ron. They had been at odds off and on ever since the start of summer, and Harry really wished that they could move past all that and just be best friends again. This was not going to help with that at all.
"I knew you'd come around," Ron beamed smugly. He turned around and moved to sit back down when Harry's voice stopped him.
"You misunderstood me, Ron," Harry told him.
"Whassat?" Ron asked distractedly, turning back towards him.
"I'm not canceling my class for practice," Harry stoically told his longtime best friend. "These classes are the most important things I'll do all year."
"What about your classes?" Hermione finally chipped in unhelpfully at the same time Ron yelled "What about Quidditch?"
"This is more important to me than either," Harry told his friends truthfully. "I won't be at practice on Sunday," he said looking directly into Ron's face.
"Then you won't be playing for my team any more," Ron retorted hotly.
"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione erupted from beside him. Her eyes were wide and mouth was open, ready to start screaming, but Harry held up a hand to forestall her.
"If that's the way it's got to be," Harry said resignedly, wondering how his supposed best friend could do something like that to him. Last year Umbridge banned him from Quidditch, but at least Harry knew where he stood with her. She hated his guts and wanted him to suffer. But Ron was supposed to be his best friend. How could his best friend just take away something he loved like that?
"Yeah, it is. Maybe I'll let you back on when you learn a little loyalty to your team," Ron half screamed as he stalked away and up the stairs to the boys' dormitories. Harry sunk into the seat that Ron had vacated during their exchange and stared into the fire.
Harry's emotions were a mangled combination of pain, betrayal and anger. He wanted to either take off for the Room of Requirement to pound a punching bag, or even better to run up the stairs and pound some sense into Ron. More than once Harry rose as if to storm out of the room, only to droop back down in his seat a moment later. He just couldn't believe that Ron had actually thrown him off the team. It was a bad case of déjà vu, but the second time around hurt much more.
He was interrupted from his introspection by a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to find his bushy haired friend looking down at him with compassion. "I'm sure he didn't mean it, Harry. He was just upset and lost his temper as usual. He'll calm down and see reason eventually."
Harry shrugged up at her. " At least he can't take my broom away like Umbridge, right?" Harry asked, mentally adding to himself,
Hermione gave him a smile. "You're right. I had forgotten that Umbridge confiscated your broom last year."