Hello everyone. This is my second story on fanfiction, so if you like this story feel free to go and check out the other one. This is a Harry/Muggle OC story. I hope you enjoy it!
Harry sighed as yet another mother cast a final suspicious and untrusting look over her shoulder as she shepherded her little boy out of the park. That was the fifth today. He sighed again, but he couldn't blame them. He fully understood what he must look like; some kind of paedophile, spending all day sitting on a swing on a children's park. Well, he hadn't been sitting on a swing all day; he had gotten off briefly to let a small 5 year old girl on as all the other swings had been taken, but only because she had glared at him in a way that would have given Snape a run for his money. Her mother quickly took her away though. Harry wondered if his own mother would have propelled him out of the park at full speed if a strange boy had been sitting on a swing watching them. He hoped so.
This was just one of the depressing thoughts that flew round his head as he slumped on the swing, arms looped round the cold metal chains with his hands stuffed deep in his pockets and feet firmly planted on the ground. Despite the brightness of the sunshine and the warmth of the hot summer's day, he could not help but shiver as the cold and harsh thoughts ran through his head, filling his thoughts with unwanted and depressing images, namely the events of the graveyard. He shook his head. It was over. The past. Nothing could be changed now, however much he wished it could.
Harry tried desperately to try and cling to happy ideas. He would be able to go and see the Weasleys and Hermione soon at The Burrow just like every year. But Ron and Hermione hadn't written. He would be back at Hogwarts soon. But everyone there hated him and thought him to be a liar. He would be able to see Cho again. But she would probably never want to go out with him now following Cedric's death, especially since he was the primary suspect in his murder.
He freed his hands from his pockets, took off his glasses and ran his hands round his face, rubbing his eyes till funny patterns appeared behind his closed lids. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he think one happy thought? Did he have some kind of depression? Harry was so busy trying to recall the symptoms of depression that Aunt Marge had once shouted at him, that he did not hear the approaching footsteps. He did however hear the clear, feminine voice that snapped him from his thoughts.
"You alright there? Not trying to rub your eyes out are you?" Whoever the girl was, she was clearly amused. Harry realised his hands were still furiously rubbing at his eyes and surrounding face, and that his eyes were starting to feel quite sore. His hands were snapped down to his lap immediately. Opening his eyes, he could only see a blur. Had he damaged his eyes irreparably? Would he ever see again? The terror was obvious on his face as his eyes darted round, blinking rapidly. An amused laugh sounded. Well, he was glad someone thought this was funny. He was going to live out his life seeing the world as nothing but a colourful blur… Oh God….
"Maybe you could try putting your glasses on Einstein," the unknown girl snorted, breaking him from his scary realisations. Blushing profusely and muttering curses under his breath, he perched his glasses back on his nose, and after a few moments of refocusing, he found himself staring into the face of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
So hopefully you liked it, and would like to read more. Reviews are always welcome!
