First week challenge on SIYE
A/N: I started to write for this challenge and final exams got in the way, preventing me from finishing it before the deadline. It has heavy angst and just read and review! :)
Summary: Dobby doesn't get to block the platform when Harry goes to Hogwarts for his 2nd year. How will Harry's first week go? Why does he find himself looking for the brown eyes of Ginny Weasley as he wanders endlessly through the castle?
First week challenge on SIYE. First Week Challenge (2008-2)
The second Challenge of the Retro series: At the beginning of Harry's second year at Hogwarts, Dobby doesn't stop Harry and Ron from going through the barrier to Platform 9 3/4. So they get to ride on the Hogwarts Express with Ginny in her first year. Throughout their first week, Harry and Ginny always seem to get into a situation where they are together.
The author's challenge is to write a story to include:
1. Harry & Ginny's beginning friendship as they start their first week of school.
2. For some unknown reason, the two of them always seem to be left alone together.
3. They each share secrets about themselves, and what they thought of the other, to help "break the ice."
4. The two agree to do something together and others are suspicious of them.
5. Luna Lovegood is Ginny's confidant while it's a surprise who Harry talks to.
6. The time frame is one week long starting when everybody wakes up September 1st at the Burrow.
A/N: I warn that it is intense but it does follow Harry's first week first week fairly well, even with Ginny being a larger part of them. I wished I could make this into a full blown fic or start a sequel, but as of right now college summer term is quite overwhelming. I tried very hard to give Harry true emotions on how anyone would feel like being placed in his situation and I hope I did so well. I was also pretty tired of the usual Ginny that is seen in fanfics. Okay, she has a temper, we get it, yes, she might be independent. But the girl is not perfect. What about that shy girl, the one that got teased by her brothers who had to be the only one to assist her mother while her brothers played, and who wanted so desperately to be herself amidst taunts that she was too little to do anything, the actress, the girl that let Harry go because she understood his reasons. I also really tried to remember what it was like being twelve and all stupid things we were concerned about and what we did for fun so that the maturity levels would be about right. Tell me what you think about the way I made her and the way she and Harry interact. Hopefully it sounded nothing like a predictable script about all the amazing things they thought of each other. --author screws her face up at the possibility of such fluff and cornyness and thanks wonderful reviewers--
Drowning Where I Belong
I'm drowning. I'm sure of it. Utter chaos makes nervous butterflies flutter in my stomach, awe at how they tease each other without doing any real harm, longing at the way Mr. and Mrs. Weasley bustle about, making sure their children have packed the clean socks, that they took the underwear without the tear in them 'no matter how comfortable they are, and no, tradition should not be applied to undergarments, Fred and George'.
I've packed most of my things; I'm already accustomed to making sure I have everything all on my own. The Dursleys wouldn't have cared if I had everything I needed; they wouldn't care if my entire trunk was burned to the ground by some freak accident, even if I happened to be in it at the time. The Dursleys would never wait until I stalked around the house and searched for my 'lucky quill' as Percy seems bent on doing, though he looks annoyed at the blaring lot his family is, regretfully, like he'd wish he wasn't there if he could.
I hate him.
The Dursleys hate me, I remember. I hate them, too, I remind myself. It doesn't make me feel any better about being locked up or fed through a cat flap like some animal though. Stop it! I reprimand myself. I hardly ever wallow in those pitiful thoughts, not since I realized that no matter what I did, it wouldn't miraculously please my relatives and make them actually want me, let alone actually knock a conscience into them so that they could stop using their detested nephew as a slave.
Funny, I'm too tired to even put the right energy behind that particular emotion. Not when I close my eyes and all I see is Voldemort on the back of Quirrell's head, offering me my parents, haunting me in dreams.
Being here, looking at all the normal things they take for granted, is like drowning. I drown in the joy of being included, of being accepted as I am, of just being Ron's best friend, but sooner or later I'll surface and realize that I'm not a Weasley. I'll never be. The Weasleys have traditions I don't know about. Families always go out on holiday and swim in rolling waters, all looking alike as they stride in neck-deep. I can't even swim.
Panic swells within me. They'll realize I'm not really theirs and then all the other tourists will gawk at the knobby-kneed boy without red hair that can't even swim. They'll know. They'll realize I don't belong there.
I'm being ridiculous and I shut my eyes, snapping my trunk closed and dragging it out to the sitting room. Maybe if I give the Weasleys all that I have at Gringotts and tell them that I'll do all the chores they'll take me in? Teach me all about themselves so that I can belong here. They have so little money but no one ever goes hungry, they don't get locked up, and they don't get called names until all that's left to do is shut your eyes and drift off. I mean, their idea of punishment is degnoming the garden!
I want that.
I sink even lower, my heart remembering the images of my parents in the Mirror of Erised, and the abyss welcomes me until someone squeaks and puts a stop to my rampant thoughts. I'm relieved until I see Ron's little sister blushing to the roots of her hair.
"Hello," I try, in what I hope is a chipper tone.
She makes a run for the stairs but Mrs. Weasley dashes that idea. "I said you are to wait downstairs until I get your brothers rounded up, Ginevra. Honestly! You'd think was a surprise that school falls on the same day each year."
Awkwardly, I attempt a smile. "Nice outfit," I say stupidly, pointing out the Gryffindor colors of her shirt and skirt. Immediately, I realize it was a mistake.
The girl looks faint.
"The colors," I say quickly, "erm…Gryffindor." Now, if that didn't earn me a troll for communication… Silently, I vow never to speak again.
We're alone and an uncomfortable silence settles over us. I want to say something-- comment on the weather, but I don't think my confidence could take the abuse. Merlin, how do I even speak to a…girl? She has feelings and stuff. Do they always look that red in the face? Is that even healthy?
"Ginevra!" Mrs. Weasley calls from Ron's tiny attic room. "Try on the robes I took in for you. They're on the mantle," she shouts. Her voice drifts off as she says, "Arthur, check the boy's trunks for contraband."
By the time I stop looking dumbly at the stairs Ginny has put on the every day school robes and is staring at herself in the mirror.
"Honestly, dear, you have him-…" With lightning speed, Ginny's hands bang the side of the mirror and the enchanted voice cuts off.
"I didn't know that's how you can get it to shut up," I say with much regret, "I could have used without the, 'Tuck your shirt in, scruffy!'"
She starts to giggle and I grin in response. That wasn't so bad.
"Bill, my older brother, told me about it," she speaks in a soft voice, yet it's not as abashed as I expected. "Don't tell anyone else; it's a secret," Ginny says conspiratorially. It reminds me of the twins.
"Your secret is safe with me, Seeker's promise," I place my hand on my chest and my other one holds an invisible snitch in the air. And Harry Potter wins the medal for corny fool…
She bites the inside of her cheek to keep her face straight, her cheeks pink from suppressed amusement. "There's no such thing as a Seeker's promise."
"Harry! Hurry to the car, Mum's going to go off any second." Ron says as he rushes outside, his trunk clunking behind him.
Ginny smiles at me shyly before exiting after her brother. I follow right after, but not before I hear, "YOU WANTED TO BRING THA-…" from Mrs. Weasley's booming voice.
/\/\/\/\/'\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\\/\\/\/\/\/\/\\\/\/\/\/\\\\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
I couldn't feel lonelier.
I scurried off the platform to give the Weasleys their private goodbyes. I, Harry Potter, am not delusional. I don't belong with the rest of them. I'm an outsider in times like these, but I do just fine on my own. Long ago, I accepted and resigned myself to my fate, happiness aside. Though I try very hard not to notice that most of my classmates are outside with their families, embarrassed with the attention, feeling they are above such things.
I envy them with a passion, my hands fisted at my side as Mrs. Weasley hugs Ginny for the third time, or when Ron ducks away from his father as he tries to squeeze his arm affectionately. Mr. Weasley's beaming face falters and I'm ashamed of my own best friend. Percy is on the other side of the platform, repining his badge for the hundredth time while the twins have found Lee Jordan and charm his mother to giggles. Near the back, in a vulture's hat, Neville's Gran presses a croaking toad to his hands; he turns red when she taps her cheek for an expected peck. Even Bulstrode and her hideous mother are exchanging farewells.
My lungs refuse to work and I need to look away. I feel like I'm sinking.
The minutes trickle by. I've been staring at nothing for longer than I though; my eyes water when I blink.
"Harry?" Ron inquires as he puts his trunk up, hauling a second one over his shoulder and laying it next to his battered old one. "Feather-weight Charm Dad cast," he explains, indicating his ability to manage both at the same time. "You okay?" He plops himself down across from me.
"Just a bit tired." I smile and rub my eyes as if to convince him. "I was so excited about today that I couldn't get to sleep."
"Oh," Ron smiles, his blue eyes drifting to his watch. "Train's moving out in five minutes. Hermione better hurry," he cranes his neck to peer out of the window, "I met her outside earlier." He's already dismissed my odd behavior and I lose grip on the ledge of some misdirected hope that he'll see, that he'll fix my life, keep me from floating endlessly in a sea of my own acceptance.
He's so gullible. You'd think that telling everyone that the Dursleys would be upset that I hadn't died would at least raise a question or two. Either everyone around me is an idiot or my subtlety is horrible. I frown but hide it with a yawn. Ron's a good friend. I decide to forgive him. My resignation floods to the top, where only at the brim lay my best friends, magic, and freedom. I anchor myself in this, always have. I just wish I could manage the way up a bit more often.
Careful to keep my face straight when Hermione comes in, I greet her with a sincere smile. My stupid thoughts plunk back to the part in my head that I don't like visiting often, where they can't see them. Otherwise they'll be able to tell. They'll know.
Hermione grins before she catches sight of the trunk Ron has placed next to his own. "Ron," she grits her teeth, "that one is not mine. I said the one to the left, not the right."
Ron scratches his head, "I thought it was odd that your trunk was silver and green."
"Wonderful, Ronald!" says Hermione, "you not only grabbed the wrong one, but you just had to go and snatch a Slytherin's."
"We'll find it, Hermione." Ron looks like just the thought that he grabbed the trunk of a Slytherin is going to make him ill.
"I doubt they would curse their own trunk, Ron. Hurry up. And you stay right here, Harry," she sends Ron her fiercest glare, "or we might not have a compartment to return to." Hermione huffs and stomps out, Ron trailing behind her and trying to touch the luggage as little as possible.
"Good luck guys," I say as I watch them go.
The compartment door slides open after a few minutes. "Hello, Harry," Neville greets me, "do you mind-…" Neville's face is flushed red and I take pity on him.
"Sure, Neville, there's plenty of room in here; just Ron, Hermione, and I."
I feel bad to see the wave of relief that washes through his expression. "Thanks a lot." His trunk gets laid out next to Ron's and he goes to the window and waves. The stuffed vulture on his grandmother's hat bobs as she waves back.
I look away.
"She's just a bit old fashioned." The train starts and whistles as it begins to move, Neville's eyes are still fixed on his Gran and his voice is quiet, as if just speaking his thoughts out loud. "But that's family. They make everything less lonely; makes life a bit more normal."
"Yeah…" I whisper back softly. Neville blinks and catches himself, flushing as he realizes he was speaking out loud the whole time. Before the silence becomes uneasy, the compartment door slides open.
"Sorry, Harry," Ginny says from the doorframe, twin spots of color on her cheeks. "Your friend Hermione said we could stay in this compartment because nowhere else was free."
I grin, knowing Ron had probably been insensitive and Hermione had more than likely scolded him for being mean to his little sister. "There's plenty of room."
She smiles softly. "I found a friend here, do you-…"
"Not at all," I interrupt, wondering when I was officially deemed in charge of the compartment.
Her friend, a blonde with dreamy looking eyes, enters with a multi-colored trunk and sits beside Neville, who she greets with a pinky shake, 'otherwise the Beezlebees will sting'. Ginny looks away and she catches my eyes while we share a smile. This time her face doesn't color red. Neville looks dumbstruck at the strange blonde.
Luna Lovegood's greeting for me consists of: "You should try to color in your scar; the lightning shape would look much more realistic. I've always wondered if you did."
"Erm…ok?" I say back, bemused.
"Interesting," is her response. Neville goes into a violent bout of coughs and promptly stands.
"I think I'll go look for the food cart now." He practically runs to the door.
"I'll come with you, Neville," Luna trails after him, "got to check it for nargles."
Neville's face falls and I feel sorry for him.
"She's a bit strange," says Ginny after they've gone.
"A bit," I respond with a smile. "Are you scared about going to Hogwarts?" I ask, remembering how nervous and excited I had been my first time on the train.
Ginny fidgets with her hands and shrugs noncommittally.
"I know I would be."
Ginny turns wide eyes on me, disbelief that Harry Potter would ever be scared of anything. I keep from rolling my eyes by sheer strength of will.
"Oh, yeah," I grin, "I had no idea what to expect, hadn't ever touched a wand, and I had just been told about magic by a half-giant." Nostalgia comes over me, picturing Hagrid's boulder-like form shadowed in the doorway in the middle of a stormy night in July. My entire world changed that day. In five minutes, I learned what hope was.
"You mean you didn't even know you were a wizard, Harry?"
I shake my head. "Imagine my surprise when I was told that not only did my parents not die in a car crash, but they were murdered by a dark wizard, leaving me famous for no reason I can think of."
Ginny is so shocked by the information that she can't even speak.
"On September 1st, my uncle dumps me off at the station and my ticket tells me to go to a platform that doesn't exist. I was so glad your mum helped, it was the nicest anyone had ever been to me." Great, now I'm embarrassed that I revealed so much.
Groaning, Ginny draws her knees to her chest. "Please say you don't remember an annoying little girl standing next to the other red heads."
I chuckle. "You mean the one that wanted to get on the train to gawk at me," I go for my puzzled expression, "or is it the one that ran after the train?"
Slowly her face comes up and she's so horribly embarrassed. "I was awful! You must have thought me such a nuisance."
"Strange, yes, but not a nuisance… I was still kind of in shock about the whole thing so nothing really hit home." I'm glad to see her relax.
Contemplatively, she bites her lip. "Can we start over?" she asks, her large brown eyes set in determination.
"What? The squeak when I came to The Burrow wasn't enough," I tease lightly.
She rips a corner of the Daily Prophet that I think belongs to Hermione and crumbles it, throwing it at my head.
Smiling, I catch it before it hits me and toss it back at her. She laughs and it's such a wonderful sound that I want to hear it forever. We keep tossing the balled up paper back and forth, determined not to drop it.
In an attempt to throw her off, I say, "Hi, I'm Harry. What's your name?"
Almost fumbling her catch, she smirks at my tactics and answers, "Ginny," as she tosses it back in my direction.
"I know how to get Ron's left eye to twitch uncontrollably. No magic involved," I say randomly. Well, if that doesn't throw her off…
She starts to laugh and lets the crumbled paper fall to the ground. "Now that I would enjoy..."
"Don't tell anyone okay, just a secret between you and me?" I plead, suddenly worried that Ron will get teased by his siblings and that he'll hate me and make me have no friends again forever and ever. Alright, that was just a tad dramatic.
"What, do you think I'm crazy?!" Ginny says. "The twins would torment Ron if they knew! Not even I could be that cruel, Witch's promise, which is just as good as a Seeker's promise, I'll have you know."
Looking up, we share a smile and appeased, I continue, "Just say 'gnats'. His eye goes mad. Hermione says that Ron probably had a bad experience with the bugs when he was too little to really remember."
"I wonder why we never knew that," Ginny says wonderingly.
"Well it's not a word you usually repeat a lot, is it?"
"Don't think so," she responds, taking out the diary she made the whole car turn around for. She blushes when she catches me looking but then stops herself, bites her lip, and pretends not to notice me. Even her hand is steady as the quill scratches against the surface of the page.
I smile and lean back into the seat, my eyes drifting closed. The train continues on to Hogwarts and it feels like I'm floating in contentment. I feel like I just made a new friend. My family, the people who make me feel normal, as Neville put it, gets a little larger.
Harry Potter is finally going home.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
The first evening back was miserable.
I spent the first night back in the common room, staring at the roaring fire. What if I really did belong in Slytherin? A wave of nausea crashes through me and I make myself as small as possible on the couch.
"Harry?"
My head turns slightly, though I don't look away from the flames. It's Ginny. I wonder if it's too late to casually pretend nothing is wrong.
"Why are you up?" she asks softly, glancing around cautiously.
"I could ask you the same."
She sits across from me, something she never would have done at The Burrow while wearing nightclothes. "Just a bit sad that Luna didn't get into Gryffindor, too; I don't know the other girls much." She hesitates, "They're so…weird."
Smirking, I look up at her.
"Well…" she giggles, "Luna is strange…but she's brilliant. The other girls are so…girly."
"No!" I gasp, glad to see her roll her eyes.
"They're…all they talk about is silly magazines about Cwarbeck this, Weird Girls that. And well…they were fighting about who had the most contact with you…" she giggles and then her expression becomes serious. "One of them claimed that you might have looked in her direction and it was just so silly…" Her bright brown eyes are intense as they look into mine and I feel like I can't breathe. I know she sees, and it scares me, exhilarates me; I don't want to hide.
Don't let me go back.
Her soft voice continues, "They don't really see y-…"
"Harry, mate, is that you?" Ron squints through the darkness and Ginny jumps out of her seat.
In that second, I couldn't hate Ron more. My chest feels heavy.
Ron looks suspiciously at Ginny and me, a strange expression on his face.
"Stop keeping Harry up, Ginny," he tells his sister. "Run along upstairs with the rest of the little firsties." It hits me that Ron is jealous, that he thinks Ginny, yet another sibling, will take away his friendship to me. How funny is it that Ron wants to be special, to stand out from his brothers' shadow, when all I have ever wanted was to have a family just like his?
Ginny looks hurt. "Keep your big nose out of my business, Ron. You can't tell me what to do."
Before Ron can blurt out the next stupid thing that comes into his head, I say, "Lay off, Ron." I'm angry. "I was up before she even came down."
The tips of his ears go red and he turns and stomps up the stairs to bed.
"Goodnight, Harry." Ginny returns to her dorm as well.
I feel lonelier than before.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
I've truly sunken to the bottom.
So far, my first day back has been a disaster. At the source: the bloody fame of the Boy-Who-Lived! Arghhh! The greenhouse had my hands aching, McGonagall must think I'm thick, and if I get asked for another picture I will wring the closest neck at my disposal.
Whatever happened to pretending not to exist? Oh, wait; I can only do that in my padlocked bedroom at Privet Drive!
And I don't think I can hate Draco Malfoy anymore than I do at this second.
"Everyone line up!" Malfoy roars to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"
I'm furious. They don't know anything. Not one of them. Can't they see what they have?! How dare the lot of them for envying what I have, how dare they for not appreciating having families that care for them! "Shut up, Malfoy." My neck is red, I'm trembling, and all I see is red.
Colin decides to defend me by accusing Malfoy of being jealous. I try not to include him in my 'people-to-curse' list. I almost add myself to the list when I actually agree with Malfoy that having a scar on my head shouldn't make me special.
Ron decides to escalate the situation before I can shut Malfoy up by agreeing with him. The look on his face would have been great. I mourn the loss as my best friend draws his wand and tells Malfoy to sit down for a lovely meal of slugs.
Maybe the snob has eaten those; they do eat snails, don't they? Malfoy sneers. I think he's stalling so that he can find something clever to say back.
Slytherins laugh all around when Malfoy tells me that I should give Ron a signed photo of myself because it'll be worth more than his house. I bite my tongue and glare harder. He should really come up with new material, perhaps work on doing improv, try a couple of knock-knock jokes on his goons…
Lockhart interrupts and manages to destroy any fiber of hope I might have had that the day would turn around. I wonder whether the rest of the staff will turn a blind eye if I hex him.
The next day, I wake up, avoiding Colin Creevey like the plague, and even the halls seem to stretch out endlessly towards uncertain fates. I'm drowning once more and it feels so wrong because this is home. If I can't feel happy here, if no one sees, what hope is there? Who am I if I can't accept that Harry Potter, that kid they all expect to see, doesn't truly exists?
Hogwarts is the only thing keeping me going, I told Dobby before he infuriated my relatives.
My step falters and my heart beats rapidly in my chest; I'm such a freak, I can't even make it to breakfast without a panic attack.
No post all summer and all I could think about was that I was back to having no friends. Back to the loneliness, the cupboard, where nothing I did could ever be good enough. Not once did the Dursleys show me mercy, make me feel like I was worth something.
I detest the very air they breathe.
I hate that while I was putting manure on flower beds, Ron was probably flying on his broom outside. The famous Harry Potter is just so wonderful! None of them notice anything. Not ever!
The bars on my window glisten in the sunlight, Uncle Vernon's threatening beady eyes, full of disgust, the sound of the padlock as they lock me inside, the way the water empties out in the drain only twice a day, my bloodshot eyes as I wonder if I can follow it. Emptiness. All alone, no one would ever care.
A group of first years gape at me, their eyes looking for him--Harry Potter.
Look at me! See me…Please…
"Harry?"
I turn around and find Ginny. I can breathe again. "Morning, Ginny."
A cheer goes off in my head when she doesn't blush at all, she smiles. "Are you okay, Harry?" She frowns in concern.
No. "Yeah, guess I got a little disoriented."
Frowning, she nods, but I know she doesn't believe me. Hermione would have started to pry by now, to try to fix me as if I was some complicated puzzle.
"Five minutes," Ginny says. She bites her lip, looking over her shoulder. "Grab some food in the Great Hall and meet me by those trees next to the greenhouses."
Intrigued, I ask, "Why all the secrecy?"
"Because it's fun," she admits with a grin. "The trick is to avoid brothers and stuff, or it'll just be another boring day, wouldn't it?"
"Well…that's true…" I answer thoughtfully.
Six minutes later, I'm leaning against a tree and grinning like a fool, waiting for the youngest Weasley. Ginny comes dashing from around the corner of the greenhouse, gripping a napkin full of toast and bacon. "Ha! I made it." She's gasping for breath and hands me the napkin. "Hold onto it."
"Was it really necessary to run?"
"Not at all, but it was really exciting."
I laugh and she plops down right next to me.
After catching her breath, she announces, "Okay, now we climb."
"Climb?" I'm suddenly puzzled.
"Uhuh, if you can manage climbing up the tree we can not only get more fresh air, but it'll be really hard to spot us from the ground. Been doing it all my life back home, watching the boys play Quidditch while I was being the perfect good little girl." The last is said with resentment and I feel guilty that I never wondered what she was up to all day while we were outside having fun. It really wasn't fair to be excluded.
By the time I finish the train of thought I feel a twig hit me in the back of the head. Ginny laughs, already up the tree. "Why you little-…" I growl in mock anger.
"Come and get me," she challenges as she takes out a piece of bread and nibbles on the edge. I reach the top in minutes and the world sets itself right again. Her bright laughter is like a beacon of light, an offering of hope; maybe someone can see me after all.
I do belong here. My home is at Hogwarts.
The rest of the day, Ron and Hermione pester me about where I was. I evade the question and Colin Creevey and wake up victorious the next day, determined to meet my newest friend.
The next three days, I find myself walking through Hogwarts. I'm searching. I don't know what for but I feel so small, so insignificant among this huge castle. Ron and Hermione are bickering because I've been doing terrible in my lessons. Everything I learned my first year seemed to have abandoned me during the summer. Hermione and Ron are so suspicious about my strange disappearances because Colin and Professor Lockhart have learned that whenever they want to find me, they just have to look for my friends. Twice they've drawn crowds, snapping a picture while I attempt to not look annoyed. If that Lockhart, who couldn't even catch a Pixie, tries to give me more advice on getting attention I will scream.
Ron keeps on dropping lines about Ginny and Creevey starting a fan club for me. I don't find them funny at all. I think Hermione notices and so she tries to fix the situation by bickering with him some more. I'm so annoyed.
The last day before the weekend, which just happens to be today, I'm walking and find myself in the dungeons. I don't even have Potions today and I'm searching, my eyes scanning the halls. I find big brown eyes and something within me lifts.
Those eyes see me. "Hello, Ginny."
"Harry!" she says cheerfully, whispering something into Luna's ear and waving goodbye to her.
I lead Ginny to away until we're out of earshot. I have a brilliant idea. "Have you ever been to the Astronomy tower at night?" I've never taken anyone else up there at night. Funny, I don't find that strange at all.
"No?" Ginny furrows her eyebrows and brushes her fiery hair behind an ear.
"Meet me tonight."
"But won't we get caught?" she whispers.
"Isn't that half the fun?" I grin and she smiles just a little.
I watch her go and can't help but notice that her hands are white with how hard she's holding her diary.
That's odd, I think.
The remainder of the day is full of excitement and even Ron and Hermione have noticed the change in me. Now, they look perplexed. I grin and make a joke. They accept it easily.
Grabbing my invisibility cloak, I wait until curfew hits and walk away from my roommates' snores. I sit in front of the fire and wait.
And wait.
I end up waiting until three before I go by myself. The shadows mock me. I feel more alone then before. I thought she saw, but no one ever does. My sea of acceptance swallows me and I'm trapped. Forever.
Quidditch the next day has Wood waking me up at the crack of dawn and Creevey bombarding me with questions as I try to be nice to him. I don't think about Ginny, I don't. I even pretend to not have seen Ron's jealous glance as he catches me in my Quidditch gear this morning. There's no hurt at all.
I blink away my thoughts when I hear Hermione—when did she and Ron get here?—accuse Malfoy of buying his way onto the team.
"No one asked your opinion, Mudblood," Malfoy responds and I lose it. Everyone notices, Fred and George stop mid-jump, they gasp. All I can see is the tragic look in Hermione's face. Ginny is standing next to her, avoiding my eyes.
I can't breathe, I'm screaming at the top of my lungs inside, willing anyone to hear.
"I made you a drawing, Aunt Petunia."
"Stay out of the way, freak!" She crumbles it and the five-year-old learns what it means to be alone, to be a freak that's meant to be invisible, unseen.
"YOU'RE WORTHLESS!" I shout, losing it. "You're not fit to even be a speck of dust on Hermione's shoe." I'm gasping for breath. "She's better in every subject than you and she's one of the greatest people I've ever met!" I roar, shaking, my eyes wild. Everyone backs away as my wand, which I stowed away in my pocket, begins to emit sparks. "And don't you DARE insult the Weasleys. They have more than you ever will."
Malfoy's eyes spark. "Yes, rubbish strewn about their lawn," he snickers.
"No," my eyes flash, "I happen to know them and they're the kindest, strongest family I've ever met. They don't care of any blood rubbish you can think of, they take one look and make you feel like one of theirs. My friend, who you just insulted, along with the youngest Weasley brother, risked their lives for mine last year. What do you have?!" I laugh bitterly. "Those goons that follow you around? A Slytherin team that will now only see Galleons and your father when they look at you? I feel sorry for you, Malfoy; your father doesn't even trust your talent enough to let you get in on your own. Tell me, are those goons by your side because of your last name, or because they actually enjoy your company?!" I hammer down my point. "You're just another bully. Another pampered little snob!"
Hermione looks too shocked to be hurt anymore and Ron grabs at my shoulder. Malfoy falters, his hands fisted and everyone is silent. He smirks. "You'd know all about being a pampered snob wouldn't you, Mr. Celebrity. Oh, yes, Harry Potter on his throne."
How unoriginal. He's stealing material from Snape. "I don't care what any one of you think about it." I respond, ready to turn around.
Advancing and just barely avoiding the grabs to stop him from my fellow Gryffindors, Malfoy grips my arm and says in a fierce whisper, "They do see me." His voice flows out in insecure tones and I almost pity him.
My eyes look up at his and my chest feels heavy. I could break him and all of his facades. He really is an ill-mannered little ponce, but who am I to judge why he's learned to act that way. Dudley is a cruel bully too but I hardly think that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had nothing to do with it. I whisper my final words, knowing I could finally drown in it, the emptiness. "Maybe the only thing that matters is that you can see yourself."
Silence surrounds us as every one strains to listen in, no longer making to pull Malfoy off because I don't look like I'm threatened.
Only Malfoy could have heard me and his face fixes into a mask of indifference. I walk away and Malfoy tries for a bored voice that basically puts down the Gryffindors and encourages his team to ignore the nuisance in light of training.
Ron and Hermione catch up, looking like I had just gotten a diagnosis for a terrible illness and was making my final amends to my enemies. The thought is so ludicrous that I want to laugh. I can be so dramatic sometimes without meaning to be.
"Harry? Are you okay?" Hermione asks, her eyes scanning my face for any sign of madness.
Ron looks wary and just adds a decidedly brilliant, "Yeah, are you?" My best friend is unsure if I'm going to scream, or break-down.
My eyes search for brown and I see Ginny watching me, looking sad and worrying her bottom lip, just a couple of paces from Hermione. I smile and shrug at them.
Inside, my chest collapses, my limbs are numb.
"He just grates on my nerves," I say, rolling my eyes and looking appropriately disgruntled.
Ron nods and his brow loses the furrow. Taking a few steps toward me, he says, "I've never seen Malfoy's face look like that. It was wicked, mate," he compliments me.
Of course he wouldn't understand anything about what I just said.
Hermione, though books smart, isn't exactly that understanding of it either. "It's true if you really look at it; if not a little sad. His friends might not really be his friends for the right reasons," she remarks. Then she ruins it by saying, "Maybe if we start being nice to him and be friendly-…"
Ron snorts. "I won't be feeling sorry for that prat."
Hermione doesn't really see it either. Draco Malfoy is an annoying, conniving, Slytherin. He would never in a million years like Hermione or see me as anything but an enemy. No one can do that for him but himself. No one can really see him and stop the loneliness unless he finds his anchor, the force that keeps him right over the top.
I still feel for my confused friend. Hermione didn't have that many friends growing up because she was always so bossy…and well a huge bookworm. Her parents love her though. Maybe it's lonely being an only child?
"Do you two mind if I go for a walk alone; I want to cool off a bit," I tell them casually. I managed to sound so normal that they readily nod and walk off, not noticing that Ginny is still standing there.
I start to walk, unsure of my destination as leaves get crushed under my trainers.
Ginny digs her nails into the diary and doesn't follow. I try not to look at the way the wind blows stray locks of flaming red hair over her sad brown eyes.
I end up at the edge of the lake. I stare at my reflection--the boy who looks so sad, the boy who wants to be loved and held. I pick up a rock an toss it. Suddenly I'm angry. I'm angry because Hermione and Ron didn't see, they couldn't have seen through my own mask.
Every time the image of my own face comes back, I bend down to throw another rock until the disruption sends ripples through the water and the image of Harry Potter is distorted. The spectacles and eyes are cut in half from the lower part of the face and my body looks as small as ever. I want to scream at the top of my lungs.
Aunt Petunia shoves a cold can of soup under the cat flap and I degrade myself to lick the drops that have trickled to the floor. I'm so angry, so ashamed, and afraid that my friends have abandoned me.
At night, an engine roars outside and they find me, my best friend in the world, Ron, who was worried after all. I scurry inside and secure Hedwig, but the shame returns when they look into my room, when they know what happened. I act like it's really not all that bad and Harry Potter stays trapped, imprisoned behind what they expect to see, that normal boy.
I drown.
Pathetic, I chastise myself when I return to my senses. My hands are filthy from the rocks. I bend down at the shore and let the cool water wash the dirt away; I let it rid me of the filth covering them. My eyes search my reflection.
I realize that I just look sadder yet, which is really too bad because usually that's hidden to everyone else. No one sees and no one is going to. I smile because I have Hermione and Ron, and for a while there, even Ginny. They're true friends, no matter their small faults. No matter if Ron gets jealous over a boy that doesn't even exist. So what that Hermione can't see through me? Nearly every single day I hope that if I wish it, I wouldn't have to even have to think about whether someone is just speaking to me because of what my name means.
Please, don't expect that kid out of me, look at me and see me.
I look behind me and Ginny is sitting by Luna under a tree, engrossed in conversation. She looks away first when I catch her eye. I try desperately to not feel the hurt claw at my heart.
Don't ever let me go back… Please, Merlin, keep me from drowning.
Longing to be back with my friends, my family, as Neville says, I trek back up to Gryffindor tower.
I want to belong.
A/N: what did ya think?