I'm seriously stuck on all of my stories, especially the New Frontier, which is just annoying since that seems to be my most popular story. Eh. What are you gonna do? Apparently go searching through old stories that's what. I was going through my old Harry Potter stuff and found this along with a couple other stories I may or may not be posting, I'll let you know.
This is an AU clip from a story that will no longer be written, ever. Well, not this version anyways. A lot of the details I had in mind when I wrote this have changed, though my OCs that are in here will still be in it. So if I ever do get around to writing this AU (hopefully after I finish some other stuff) I'll revise this so that all the details are consistent.
(on a side note, I have actually posted this before, so if you recognize it, that's probably why. I don't really remember why I deleted it...whatever)
Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter or anything else familiar and I do not make any profit off writing this or anything else.
Harry sighed, looking up at the black ceiling of the hospital wing. The school clock tower had struck midnight about ten minutes ago, and here he was, still glaring up at the shadows, fighting off the worst case of post-adventure insomnia. His mind simply refused to stop going over and over the events of the day. His dream/vision that Sirius was about to be killed. The plan to find out if it was true. Being caught by Umbridge. Hermione's quick thinking getting them out of there. The small battle with the centaurs. Flying on thestrals to the Ministry of Magic. The battle over the prophecy. Trinity switching out the prophecy with one she somehow got ahold of. Trinity stopping Bellatrix from killing Sirius. Voldemort showing up. Dumbledore fighting him. Sirius appearing to help. The Minister showing up in time to see Sirius stopping Voldemort from harming Harry and Trinity. They all ran through his head like stills from a movie, making his stomach churn in anxiety. The battle may have ended, but they still had to deal with the aftermath.
Carefully, Harry turned onto his side. Having spent so much time lying bruised and bandaged in the hospital wing over the years, he knew exactly how to move on the small cot so as not to make a sound. Moonlight filtered dimly in through the high windows, casting unearthly beams of light onto various sections of the room and allowing Harry to make out the faint silhouette of a person in the cot beside his. The person lay perfectly still on their back, hands folded neatly on their stomach. There was no way she was asleep. After all the times they'd passed out next to each other throughout the year, he knew for a fact she never stayed still while asleep. He had the bruises to prove it.
She sniffed. Yep, definitely not asleep.
"Trinity?" Harry called as softly as possibly.
The dark form seemed to tense before she turned onto her side, facing away from him. "Sorry I woke you," her voice sounded strangled, even while whispering.
"You didn't," he whispered back. "I can't sleep." When she didn't answer, he continued, "Are you alright?"
"Mm-hm," her voice was higher pitched now, obviously fake.
"Trin…" What was he supposed to say? He had been the one to scare the daylights out of her, saying her father was in danger and then dragging her through hell just to find out that it wasn't true and now she was most likely on the top of the Dark Lord's hit list alongside him. Stupid prophecies. Stupid vision thingy. From now on he was just going to leave seeing the future to Phoenix.
But for now he had a distraught god-sister to worry about. If only she hadn't turned away. Frowning he looked around for something to grab her attention. It was a little difficult; he wasn't wearing his glasses, giving everything a blurry outline. Reaching up he felt around his nightstand until he felt the soft plushy he remembered from earlier. Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet had given him a stuffed owl that looked exactly like Hedwig as a "get well soon" gift. How people always seemed to know he was in the hospital wing the moment he stepped foot inside he'll never know, but for now he was grateful.
Grabbing the small white stuffed animal, he squinted over at the shadowed hulk of his bed neighbor. It was difficult to aim in the dark, even more so considering he was blind as a bat, but he somehow managed to lob the thing directly onto her back. Allowing himself one small triumphant fist pump (he really should be trying to sleep right now; he was getting loopier than Luna), Harry waited as Trinity turned over in bed, searching out her attacker.
"Seriously?" she squeaked, a small halfhearted chuckle escaping. "You're throwing stuffed animals at me now?"
"Hey," he said, gently cutting her off. He scooted to the far end of the tiny cot and held up his scratchy blanket, inviting her over. She hesitated a moment before he heard the sound of her shifting on the creaky mattress and the soft patter of her bare feet on the cold floor. A second later a small warm body was burrowing in next to him.
The cots in the hospital wing were more narrow than the four-poster beds in Gryffindor tower, and about half the size of their beds in Grimmauld Place. Yet somehow they still managed to fall into a comfortable position, as per usual. Their legs naturally tangled together as Trinity tucked her head under his chin and they wrapped their arms around each other for comfort and warmth. It didn't matter that they had only really known each other for a year; Harry still felt more comfortable with this girl than anyone else he knew, including his best friends.
They lay quietly together for a long while, only Trinity's occasional sniffles telling of her distress. Harry gently rubbed what he hoped was soothing circles on her back, though it didn't seem to be helping as he felt his shirt slowly dampen with her tears.
"I'm sorry," she croaked quietly. "I just…I guess it's all sorta catching up to me, you know?"
"I know," he whispered, pulling her closer. He probably knew better than anyone. "Listen, Trin. I'm so–" He was cut off be a light jab to his stomach.
"Don't. Just don't. You know I don't blame you. You couldn't have known." She took a deep steadying breath, burying her face further into his chest. "I'm just kinda freaking out about dad." She paused. "What do you think the minister's gonna do?"
"Honestly?" he sighed. "I don't know, Trin. He saw Sirius fighting with Dumbledore, so I'm sure they can't say he's still with Voldemort. But…I just don't know."
"I hate the minister," she mumbled into his shirt, probably hoping he wouldn't hear.
He rubbed her back some more, "Nah. He's an idiot, but he has good intentions."
"If he throws my father back in jail he take his good intentions and shove up his–"
Harry had to turn his head into the pillow to muffle his laugh, ruffling her hair at the same time.
"I can't lose him again," she murmured, all fire gone from her voice.
He tightened his grip on her, "Don't worry, Trin." He wanted to say everything would be fine, but they both knew that was a lie. Instead he bowed his head, burying his face in her chaotic mass of hair and took comfort in the one person who knew exactly what he was going through right at that moment.
They stayed locked in their embrace as the sun began to rise, filling the hospital wing in wispy, pinkish golden morning light. He kept her body close to his until he knew for certain Madame Pomfrey was about to rise to make her morning rounds. It was a little sad that he had her schedule memorized, but entirely helpful.
Giving Trinity one last squeeze, he began to move away, only to have her scurrying back, grumbling under her breath. Chuckling, Harry smiled down at her, finding that she had drifted off to sleep. He had a few options on waking her. Phoenix probably would have hit her with a pillow or something. Mrs. Black would be bribing her with coffee. Sirius usually just scooped her up, blankets and all and carried her down to breakfast, heedless of any guests that may be present. Everyone else seemed to wake her like normal people would.
Shaking her shoulder gently, he tried to prod her back to the land of the living, "Trinity. Wake up."
All that got him was more grumbling. The clock informed him they had ten minutes to return to their original positions before the nurse stormed in and started berating them. And really, it was far too early for that.
"Okay, you asked for it," he warned. One thing to come from such a close friendship, Harry knew all of Trinity's weaknesses. Namely, her tickle spots. He quickly drummed his fingertips up the side of her ribcage, making her eyes pop open as she let out a squeak and her knees jerked up automatically. He scooted back a fraction just in time to avoid getting kneed in the groin.
Trinity pouted up at him, "Mean."
"Back to your own bed," he shooed her, grinning.
She stuck her tongue out at him before swinging her legs out of the blanket. With another squeak, Harry found his bedfellow back huddled under his covers. Stifling his laugh, he raised an eyebrow inquisitively.
"The floor's freezing," she hissed.
"Then run."
She glared at him but took his advice, darting out from his bed only to take a flying leap onto hers. She bounced before burrowing under her covers with a shiver. Harry bit down on his pillow to stop from laughing at her antics. Suddenly something soft and fluffy bounced off his head. He looked up to find his plushy owl he'd used as a projectile last night lying next to him. He looked up at Trinity in time to see her stick her tongue out again and disappear beneath her blanket. Laughing, Harry set the stuffed animal back in its place and nestled down to pretend to be asleep right as Madame Pomfrey entered the hospital wing.