Just a short ficlet.
It had been three days. 72 hours since Voldemort had regained a body using his blood. Harry felt sick at the thought. Madam Pomfrey had released him from the hospital wing just the night before, declaring him to be in perfect health despite the new scar that rested on his forearm. He almost snorted when she announced that to him.
The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of the old castle, dust particles danced lazily through the air. Harry could hear Peeves cackling down a far off corridor and if he looked out over the grounds he could spot groups of students basking in the Summer warmth.
Everything felt almost normal. And that felt wrong. Cedric was dead, a Dark Lord had risen, and once again he felt helpless.
Harry wandered abandoned halls and classrooms as long as he could before settling in what he thought was an old charms classroom, the sun dipping below the horizon and the clear blue sky gave way to the orange and purple pastels of twilight. Plopping down on a dusty desk, he pulled his knees to his chest and stared out the adjacent window.
'I'm not weak.' He tells himself. He loses track of time. Minutes or hours? Doesn't matter, he can't handle the others right now.
"There you are!" Harry nearly jumps out of his skin at the exclamation. He didn't need to turn around to know that it was Hermione. With a small smile he realizes that she must have been looking for him, her concern was touching.
"I was worried when I didn't see you at lunch." The bushy-haired witch took a seat beside him on the old desk. He allowed his legs to dangle off the edge desk, his hands twitched and nervously played with the rough grain of the wood.
"I'm fine Hermione." He wasn't fine, but he wouldn't place his burdens on anyone else. He can feel her eyes on him, and he allows his gaze to snap to hers. The concern in her stare was nearly palpable.
"Harry..." He swallowed thickly. He could feel repressed emotions bubbling in his chest but he pushes them down and buries them.
"I-I'm fine." His muscles were tense and he could curse himself for letting that stutter out. He isn't prepared for Hermione's slender arm to carefully wrap around his shoulders or the cool palm gently cupping his cheek. She gently tilted his face until his emerald eyes were staring into her deep brown ones.
Before he could help it, a violent sob ripped its way out of his throat and he buried his head in her shoulder. Tears ran down his cheeks as everything locked away came flooding out. The resurrection of Voldemort, Cedric's death, the whole tournament, previous school years, his treatment at the Dursley's. Hermione just held him, rubbing slowly circles on his back with one hand while the other gently ran through his messy mop of hair.
Harry slowly pulled away, he felt mortified that someone so close to him had seen him so broken...so weak.
"I'm sorr-" He started but was cut off when a delicate finger pressed to his lips. "Don't finish that sentence Harry, you have nothing to be sorry for." Her voice was gentle but firm. He felt a warmth blossom in his chest and he pulled Hermione into a tight hug. He felt her stiffen in surprise, probably because he had never initiated a hug before, so he held her a bit tighter.
"Thank you for being here." She smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.
"I'll always be here."
Review! Getting back into the writing game!
