((Author's note: Hiya! I'm back again with another bad fic. But read it and
tell me whether you like it or not anyway. Feel free to lie, that always
makes me happy ^ ^ No just kidding. Um.since HTML doesn't seem to like me
at the moment, //*blank blank*// means thoughts. Read on. ^_^))
Harry awoke that morning with an unusual sense of foreboding in the pit of his stomach. That early in the morning, he put it down to hunger and quickly got up and pulled on his robes and uniform. As usual, he was the only one awake in his dormitory; that was the way he liked it. The problem was, he always had a few hours to kill before breakfast. So, with a last once-over to check that everything was relatively neat around his bed, Harry exited the chamber and descended the steps to the common room.
Everything was quiet as he seated himself in an over-stuffed chair before the unlit fire. Pulling out the book that he'd grabbed on his way out of his room, Harry opened it and began to read.
Unfortunately, after about a page, he found that the book had no power to hold him while the feeling of apprehension haunted the back of his mind. Closing the book decisively, Harry stood and decided to wander the castle for a while. Leaving the book on the table, Harry rushed upstairs to take his Invisibility Cloak then came downstairs again, pushed the painting that concealed the entrance to Gryffindor House aside and left the common room.
Outside, everything was silent as well and Harry smiled to himself, //It's so nice to be free to wander around with the cloak and without people running into you constantly// he decided, and headed for the Entrance Hall- which was conveniently placed near the Dining Hall-to see which paintings had moved during the night.
A few feet from the archway that lead into his destination, voices alerted Harry to the presence of others awake. He stopped and moved against the wall, inching forward to hear better,
"Really, Argus, isn't it a little early for the students to be pulling pranks? It's Saturday morning anyway, they're all asleep!" Professor McGonagall's tired voice could be distinguished anywhere.
"Very sorry Professor, this time 't ain't the children. Or least I 'ope it ain't." Filch, the caretaker explained, his voice tinged with worry.
"Whatever do you mean Argus? Has something happened?" Professor McGonagall's voice rose slightly in alarm.
"I'll show ye, if you'll come with me, Professor." Their voices faded away as Filch guided the bewildered Professor down the hallway, which led to the hospital wing.
Intrigued and a little alarmed, Harry decided to follow; glad he'd remembered the Invisibility Cloak this time. Silent and invisible as a shadow, Harry followed Professor McGonagall and Filch to the hospital wing, where they met with Madam Pomfrey and had a quick, whispered discussion outside the curtain drawn around one of the hospital beds. All Harry could catch were quiet exclamations about the state of the "poor girl."
Finally, Madam Pomfrey drew back the curtain so they could see the girl, and Harry drew closer. He barely concealed his gasp of shock as he saw the battered, bruised, and broken body on the bed. Harry stared into her milk- pale face, framed by black hair that flowed like water, and felt something jerk inside him. He felt a sudden anger at whoever had done this to the poor girl, who looked so fragile just lying there. Harry reached his hand out and tentatively brushed her cheek with his fingertips, feeling the smooth skin beneath his fingers, but always careful, as if too much pressure would break her porcelain doll face.
Remembering where he was, Harry quickly withdrew his hand and turned to look at the adults behind him, who were looking at the girl with a pitying horror, he realized that he had not been seen. Relieved, Harry quickly left the room and returned to his dormitory, pulling off the Cloak and stowing it away under his bed. Harry returned to the common room to wait for his friends to wake up and for the day to start.
===============================================================
Harry went through the day in a strange sort of daze, only listening half- heartedly as Hermione complained about the lack of literature necessary for her research in the Hogwarts library, and as Ron explained to him about the newest broom model. If his friends noticed his preoccupation, they didn't mention it, and evening came soon enough.
At dinner, rumors were flying around the large room about the girl in the hospital wing,
"Know what I think? I think she's a girl they found in the Forbidden Forest an' she was probably attacked by centaurs or something!" Seamus Finnigan announced, and his idea was greeted by loud support.
"Yeah? Well I bet she's a spy from Durmstrang or Beauxbaton!" exclaimed Dean Thomas, but this suggestion was booed with cries of "Shut it Thomas!" and bread rolls thrown in his direction. A few even hit, as was evident from the yelps on that side of the table. Everyone laughed, it was all in good fun after all, even Dean.
Harry himself was surprised that rumor had spread so quickly, but then again, this was Hogwarts, and everyone knew everything that happened some way or another. He took no part in the discussion, as did Hermione, but Ron was busy discussing the possibility of a spy excitedly and heatedly with Dean Thomas.
Harry excused himself early, he wanted to go check on the girl, and Hermione watched him go with a look of slight puzzlement, as if she knew something was going on, but judged it not to be the time to ask. Yet, it seemed as if she was going to call him back, and might have, if Ron hadn't elbowed her on accident, diverting her attention to him and starting another of their infamous arguments. Relieved, Harry disappeared down the corridor quickly, and as soon as he was out of sight, he ran for it.
By the time he reached the hospital wing, Harry was definitely out of breath, but he quickly softened his breathing so as not to disturb the still sleeping girl. Madam Pomfrey had cleaned her up and healed most of the welts, cuts, and scrapes, but Harry could tell that there would always be some scars, on her arms and legs especially. She stirred slightly and Harry realized that she could wake at any moment. He moved a ways from the bed, reluctant to go, yet not wanting to wake her. Finally, after lingering for a few more minutes, watching her beautiful and peaceful sleep, he left to let the girl sleep.
Harry awoke that morning with an unusual sense of foreboding in the pit of his stomach. That early in the morning, he put it down to hunger and quickly got up and pulled on his robes and uniform. As usual, he was the only one awake in his dormitory; that was the way he liked it. The problem was, he always had a few hours to kill before breakfast. So, with a last once-over to check that everything was relatively neat around his bed, Harry exited the chamber and descended the steps to the common room.
Everything was quiet as he seated himself in an over-stuffed chair before the unlit fire. Pulling out the book that he'd grabbed on his way out of his room, Harry opened it and began to read.
Unfortunately, after about a page, he found that the book had no power to hold him while the feeling of apprehension haunted the back of his mind. Closing the book decisively, Harry stood and decided to wander the castle for a while. Leaving the book on the table, Harry rushed upstairs to take his Invisibility Cloak then came downstairs again, pushed the painting that concealed the entrance to Gryffindor House aside and left the common room.
Outside, everything was silent as well and Harry smiled to himself, //It's so nice to be free to wander around with the cloak and without people running into you constantly// he decided, and headed for the Entrance Hall- which was conveniently placed near the Dining Hall-to see which paintings had moved during the night.
A few feet from the archway that lead into his destination, voices alerted Harry to the presence of others awake. He stopped and moved against the wall, inching forward to hear better,
"Really, Argus, isn't it a little early for the students to be pulling pranks? It's Saturday morning anyway, they're all asleep!" Professor McGonagall's tired voice could be distinguished anywhere.
"Very sorry Professor, this time 't ain't the children. Or least I 'ope it ain't." Filch, the caretaker explained, his voice tinged with worry.
"Whatever do you mean Argus? Has something happened?" Professor McGonagall's voice rose slightly in alarm.
"I'll show ye, if you'll come with me, Professor." Their voices faded away as Filch guided the bewildered Professor down the hallway, which led to the hospital wing.
Intrigued and a little alarmed, Harry decided to follow; glad he'd remembered the Invisibility Cloak this time. Silent and invisible as a shadow, Harry followed Professor McGonagall and Filch to the hospital wing, where they met with Madam Pomfrey and had a quick, whispered discussion outside the curtain drawn around one of the hospital beds. All Harry could catch were quiet exclamations about the state of the "poor girl."
Finally, Madam Pomfrey drew back the curtain so they could see the girl, and Harry drew closer. He barely concealed his gasp of shock as he saw the battered, bruised, and broken body on the bed. Harry stared into her milk- pale face, framed by black hair that flowed like water, and felt something jerk inside him. He felt a sudden anger at whoever had done this to the poor girl, who looked so fragile just lying there. Harry reached his hand out and tentatively brushed her cheek with his fingertips, feeling the smooth skin beneath his fingers, but always careful, as if too much pressure would break her porcelain doll face.
Remembering where he was, Harry quickly withdrew his hand and turned to look at the adults behind him, who were looking at the girl with a pitying horror, he realized that he had not been seen. Relieved, Harry quickly left the room and returned to his dormitory, pulling off the Cloak and stowing it away under his bed. Harry returned to the common room to wait for his friends to wake up and for the day to start.
===============================================================
Harry went through the day in a strange sort of daze, only listening half- heartedly as Hermione complained about the lack of literature necessary for her research in the Hogwarts library, and as Ron explained to him about the newest broom model. If his friends noticed his preoccupation, they didn't mention it, and evening came soon enough.
At dinner, rumors were flying around the large room about the girl in the hospital wing,
"Know what I think? I think she's a girl they found in the Forbidden Forest an' she was probably attacked by centaurs or something!" Seamus Finnigan announced, and his idea was greeted by loud support.
"Yeah? Well I bet she's a spy from Durmstrang or Beauxbaton!" exclaimed Dean Thomas, but this suggestion was booed with cries of "Shut it Thomas!" and bread rolls thrown in his direction. A few even hit, as was evident from the yelps on that side of the table. Everyone laughed, it was all in good fun after all, even Dean.
Harry himself was surprised that rumor had spread so quickly, but then again, this was Hogwarts, and everyone knew everything that happened some way or another. He took no part in the discussion, as did Hermione, but Ron was busy discussing the possibility of a spy excitedly and heatedly with Dean Thomas.
Harry excused himself early, he wanted to go check on the girl, and Hermione watched him go with a look of slight puzzlement, as if she knew something was going on, but judged it not to be the time to ask. Yet, it seemed as if she was going to call him back, and might have, if Ron hadn't elbowed her on accident, diverting her attention to him and starting another of their infamous arguments. Relieved, Harry disappeared down the corridor quickly, and as soon as he was out of sight, he ran for it.
By the time he reached the hospital wing, Harry was definitely out of breath, but he quickly softened his breathing so as not to disturb the still sleeping girl. Madam Pomfrey had cleaned her up and healed most of the welts, cuts, and scrapes, but Harry could tell that there would always be some scars, on her arms and legs especially. She stirred slightly and Harry realized that she could wake at any moment. He moved a ways from the bed, reluctant to go, yet not wanting to wake her. Finally, after lingering for a few more minutes, watching her beautiful and peaceful sleep, he left to let the girl sleep.