Seamus's face turned even redder. His lips trembled, and his Adam's apple bobbed as if he were swallowing something terribly bitter.
"Ron, calm down. I didn't say anything." His voice rose, carrying the pent-up emotion of someone who had "already been holding back for a long time." "I just—I just don't want to cause trouble. Do you know what the atmosphere in the school is like now? Do you know what those parents outside are saying? Even Dumbledore has been suspended. How am I supposed to—"
"Cause trouble?" Ron cut him off, his voice rising another notch. "You call this causing trouble? Your friend is being treated like a monster by the whole school, and you don't even dare stand beside him. That's 'not wanting to cause trouble'?" He stepped closer, his chest nearly hitting Seamus's shoulder. "Have you forgotten who pulled you away from those Slytherins last term? Have you forgotten who helped explain why your cauldron exploded in Potions? Have you forgotten—"
"I haven't forgotten!" Seamus suddenly shouted.
His eyes were red, not because he was about to cry, but with the bloodshot red of someone cornered against a wall and forced to fight back. "I haven't forgotten! But neither has he!" He raised a hand and pointed at Harry behind Ron.
It was the first time he had looked at Harry from beginning to end.
His gaze paused on Harry's face for a moment before darting away, as though he had been burned. "During the last Duelling Club, when he used Parseltongue, Dumbledore stepped forward and said it wasn't him, said he wasn't the Heir of Slytherin. I believed him. We all believed him."
His voice dropped, carrying the weary question of how am I supposed to keep believing?
"But what about this time? Why didn't he