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"Antidotes!" said Snape, looking around at us all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one..." Judging from the direction of his gaze, he had already chosen who to poison.
As Snape began to explain some of the properties our antidotes should have, not including myself seeing as I had already completed enough to have graded, some sent to Madam Pomfrey, and keep some for my own private stash, my eyes clouded over.
Chapter Ten
I was in the same place, that place being the Potions classroom, and everything looked exactly the same so I could only assume this would happen during this class period. There was a knock on the door. It was Collin Creevey, and he edged into the classroom and up to Professor Snape's desk.
"Yes?" Snape asked curtly.
"Please sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs."
Professor Snape looked down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face. "Potter has another hour of Potions to complete," said Snape coldly. "He will come upstairs when this class is finished."
Colin went pink. "Sir—sir, Mr. Bagman wants him," he said nervously. "All the champions have got to go; I think they want to take photographs..."
Knowing what Ron had said about a photo shoot the other day, I knew Harry would have given anything he owned to have stopped Colin saying those last few words. I saw him chance half a glance at Ron, but Ron was staring determinedly at the ceiling.
"Very well, very well," Snape snapped. "Potter, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidote."
"Please, sir—he's got to take his things with him," squeaked Cohn. "All the champions..."
"Very well!" said Snape. "Potter—take your bag and get out of my sight!"
The scene faded and though I was looking at much the same thing, it had lost its dreamlike quality. I looked over at Harry who was dutifully staring down at his cauldron and walked silently up to Professor Snape's desk. He looked up at me, and upon seeing which of his students I was, his scowl faded slightly.
"Yes, Ms. Grey?" he asked.
"Professor, could I please go to the Hospital Wing, I'm not feeling very well." I said in a small voice.
He nodded curtly. "Seeing as you've finished this assignment, I don't see why not. Take your things in case you don't return in time." He instructed.
I nodded in thanks and returned to Harry, Hermione, and my station, and packed up my things. I saw their questioning looks but gave them a shrug that said I'd tell them later. I was walking out of the classroom just as Collin Creevey was coming in. Perfect timing…
I didn't stay to watch the scene play out again, but I heard it what with my hearing being enhanced, and I waited a little ways down the corridor until Harry and Collin exited the classroom.
"It's amazing, isn't it, Harry?" said Colin, starting to speak the moment Harry had closed the dungeon door behind him. "Isn't it, though? You being champion?"
"Yeah, really amazing," said Harry heavily.
"Harry," I called. He and Collin looked up and I waited for them to catch up.
"What's wrong? I thought you were going to the Hospital Wing?" Harry asked, genuine concern in his voice.
I smirked. "I only needed an excuse to come with you, obviously." I drawled, as we set off walking again, Collin being a little ways ahead of us.
Harry smiled gratefully, and then froze, looking at me funny. "How did you know Collin was coming to get me from class?" he asked.
This time I froze and mentally cursed. Shit, how could I not have thought that through? My mind raced with lies and cover-ups, but I didn't want to lie to Harry so I just shrugged. "It's just another one of my many secrets, Harry…" I said mysteriously.
I had meant it as a joke, but I sighed when I saw the hurt and betrayal cross Harry's face. I grabbed his hand for a second. "Harry, I'm sorry, it's just… I'm not ready for anyone to know yet, alright? But I promise, when I'm ready, you'll be the first to know, ok?"
"What do they want photos for, Colin?" Harry said to Collin, ignoring me.
I felt a white-hot flash of pure hurt shoot through my chest at that moment. I dropped Harry's hand, and remained quiet for the rest of the walk as the two boys talked.
"The Daily Prophet, I think!"
"Great," said Harry dully. "Exactly what I need… more publicity."
"Good luck!" Collin said when we had reached the right room. "Oh, and don't worry Gia, I promise I won't tell anybody about you lying to Snape." I summoned a convincing grin for the hyper, younger boy and ruffled his hair affectionately. He really was a good kid.
He blushed. "Thanks Collin, I owe you one."
"It's no problem, guys. Have fun!" he called as he disappeared around the corner.
Harry knocked on the door, and we entered together. We entered a fairly small classroom; most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle; three of them, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet. Five chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a witch Harry had hopefully never seen before, who was wearing magenta robes. I immediately recognized her though, and I just barely stopped myself from baring my fangs at her.
Viktor was standing moodily in a corner and not talking to anybody, while Cedric and Fleur were in conversation. Fleur looked a good deal happier than usual; she kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light. A paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye.
Bagman suddenly spotted Harry, got up quickly, and bounded forward. "Ah, here he is! Champion number four! In you come, Harry, in you come... Nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment…" He trailed off, looking at me.
"And who is this lovely young lady?" he asked smoothly. I stopped myself from grimacing and shook his hand.
"Gia Aria Grey, Mr. Bagman. I'm simply here as a friend." I said.
Bagman's face lit up, though I wasn't entirely sure why. "Oh no, dear, it's no problem. Of course, you are welcome to stay and join us for the wand weighing ceremony."
"Wand weighing?" Harry repeated.
"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," said Bagman. I could instantly see that Harry was grateful I had forced him to start taking better care of his wand, polishing it and such.
"The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photo shoot." Bagman explained.
Deciding I might as well help make Harry more comfortable, even with his hurtful snub in the corridor, I dragged him away from Rita Skeeter and towards the other champions, who turned to me with large smiles. "Fleur, comment vas-tu?" I asked, as Fleur and I exchanged our usual cheek kisses.
"Je suis bien, merci. Comment allez-vous?" she replied honestly.
"Même ici, même si j'ai essayé d'aider Harry à travers tout ce stress tournoi et le théâtre." I say softly, glancing at Harry. Fleur peered at us both.
"Alors, il a dit la vérité? Il n'a pas vraiment entrer lui-même?" she asked. I nodded firmly. She nodded.
Viktor pulled me into his usual one-armed hug, and we spoke in rapid Bulgarian, having much the same sort of conversation as Fleur and I had had. Then I turned to Cedric. Poking him in the stomach, I sigh dramatically. "And here I thought you were staying in shape for the Quidditch season next year. I see you're in danger of getting flabby, Cedric." I teased.
He snorted and yanked one of my red, ringlets. "And you're in danger of never reaching five feet, Gia." I huffed and folded my arms as Fleur and Viktor chuckled lightly, and even Harry cracked a smile.
"You didn't have to go there, Diggory." I mumbled jokingly.
"It's my job to go there, little sis." He said. I smiled up at him and flipped my hair, whipping it in his face, causing him to splutter.
A minute later, the champions were instructed to sit in chairs near the door, and Harry sat down next to Cedric, looking up at the velvet-covered table where four of the five judges were now sitting—Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Mr. Crouch, and Ludo Bagman. Rita Skeeter settled herself down in a corner, and I kept a close eye on her as she sucked the end of her quill. I leaned against a corner out of the way, and though Dumbledore glanced at me with obvious amusement, he didn't say anything, allowing me to stay.
"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" said Dumbledore, taking his place at the judges' table and talking to the champions. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."
We all looked around, and with a jolt of surprise saw the old wizard with large, pale eyes standing quietly by the window. A large smile bloomed on my face, and I couldn't stop myself from crossing the room to him. He smiled at me and pulled me into a hug as if he were my grandfather, I thought of him as such anyway. "Garrick!" I exclaimed happily as we pulled apart, "How have you been?"
He chuckled. "Oh you know, same as always, scaring the crap out of eleven year olds each year." I snorted.
"Same old…" we looked at the rest of the room, all of whom were staring at us in shocked bemusement, probably at the fact that I was so close to the old wandmaker, or perhaps his use of the word crap. Blushing lightly, I said, "Sorry, you can continue…" before stepping off to the side once more.
"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room. As he did, my eyes clouded over again. Great…
It seemed that I was looking at a Daily Prophet article; the date said it'd be coming out within a few days. Much of the front page had been given over to a picture of Harry; the article (continuing on pages two, six, and seven) had been all about Harry, the names of the Beauxbaton and Durmstrang champions (misspelled) had been squashed into the last line of the article, and Cedric hadn't been mentioned at all.
It had been written by Rita Skeeter, so I wasn't surprised that she had completely mangled Harry's image. "I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now... Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it... I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're watching over me…" She had written, apparently 'quoting' Harry. She had even gone so far as to say that "Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school." I saw brief glimpses of the torment both of them would face after the article would be published, just as the scene faded…
It took all of my self-control not to snarl at that tight-lipped, dinosaur when the wand-weighing ceremony once again swam into my vision. I had returned just as Ollivander turned to Cedric. "Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" said Mr. Ollivander, with much more enthusiasm, as Cedric handed over his wand. "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn... Must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches... Ash... Pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition..."
While he talked, I glided silently and unnoticed over to Rita Skeeter, and leaned down so that my mouth was next to her ear. "Can you come with me, Rita? I'd like to discuss something with you for a moment." I said.
Seeing that it was the girl who seemed so close to all of the champions, she followed me directly outside of the door into the corridor, and I smiled at her.
"My, you are a pretty young thing," Rita commented, and I caught the slight envy in her tone. "I'd be surprised if one of those young men hasn't already snatched you up?" she said, phrasing it as a question.
I saw what she was trying to do, dig up dirt on one of the boys, and my smile melted into a sinister grin, and for the second time that year, I purposefully exposed my elongated canine teeth, my amber eyes were frozen and dark. I could tell immediately that Rita was scared out of her damned mind. Good, she should be.
"Listen Rita," I said in a frigid voice that seemed to freeze the very corridor we stood in, "if the article you write about this day isn't perfectly true, relevant, and fair, I will personally be very upset about it. And when I get upset," I licked my fangs, "well, I'll be obligated to do something about it. Do you understand, Rita?"
She nodded mutely, too frightened to speak, and my face melted back into a bright, happy expression. Somehow, this change terrified her even more, and I stared at her warningly for a second, before we both entered the room again. We returned back inside as Ollivander was making a fountain of wine shoot from the end of Harry's wand.
I vaguely remembered the day I had explained to Harry the importance of proper wand care, and I nearly laughed out loud upon remembering how red he had gotten when I had waggled my eyes suggestively and explained about how to polish his wand. Ollivander handed Harry back his wand, and as an afterthought, turned to me.
"Miss Grey, I know you are not a champion, however, I was wondering if I could perhaps, check your wand as well?" he asked. I knew why it was important to him to check my particular wand.
Flashback
Once again, Ollivander returned from a trip into the isles, only this time, he wasn't carrying an armload of boxes, only one. This particular box looked older than the rest, and it was covered in a thick layer of dust and mold.
Setting it gingerly on the counter in front of me, Ollivander hesitated. "This wand, Miss Grey, is one of the first wands my own grandfather made, almost two centuries ago. It is very special, and I have a good feeling that this might be it." He said softly.
Nodding in understand, I waited patiently as Ollivander carefully peeled off the soggy, dusty box top. Nestled in a bed of dusty black velvet, was a perfectly, deep black wand with stranger silver, swirling designs spiraling up the length of it. The designs were slightly raised, almost like silver vines creeping up the wand, and that faint whispery tingle I felt early came back full force. This was it, I knew it was.
Taking in another breath, I slowly reached into the box and picked up the wand. Unlike the other wands that all felt awkward and unnatural in my grip, this wand immediately settled, as if it had been specially crafted for my particular hand. As soon as I had a grip on it, my entire body shivered deeply, though the feeling wasn't unpleasant. Simultaneously, the room seemed to get darker, the temperature dropped, and the area around me and the wand seemed to be glowing. A large shower of silver, crackling sparks streamed from my wand, sizzling in the air as if it were coming from fireworks.
I sighed contently as the glow disappeared and the room returned to normal. Looking over at Ollivander, I couldn't help but snort at his stunned and slightly awed expression. I suppose that had never happened to anyone before. "Well obviously, we have found the right wand for you, Miss Grey." He said.
I smiled slightly. "Yes, I suppose so. How much for it?"
Ollivander shook his head with a wistful sort of smile. "This particular wand is free for you," he began, "all I ask, is that you take very, good care of it."
I nodded seriously. "I promise that I will." I said, and I meant it.
End of Flashback
I handed over my wand, ignoring everyone's rather surprised and interested expressions. I saw that Dumbledore recognized my wand, perhaps he knew Ollivander's grandfather, and he shot me a long, appraising glance. Ollivander examined my wand lovingly, and then swished it, causing the room to darken and then brighten back up again, before handing it back.
"It's in perfect condition, as you had promised to keep it. I thank you for that Miss Grey," Ollivander said. "Please, do come visit my shop again."
"Thank you all," said Dumbledore, standing up at the judges' table. "You may go back to your lessons now—or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end—"
We all got up to leave, but the man with the black camera jumped up and cleared his throat.
"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" cried Bagman excitedly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"
"Err—yes, let's do those first," said Rita Skeeter, whose eyes were upon Harry again, and then she glanced at me, and I grinned largely at her. She looked away rather quickly. "And then perhaps some individual shots." She suggested quickly.
The photographs took a long time. Madame Maxime cast everyone else into shadow wherever she stood, and the photographer couldn't stand far enough back to get her into the frame; eventually she had to sit while everyone else stood around her. Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee around his finger to give it an extra curl, which I found hilarious. And Viktor, whom I figured would have been used to this sort of thing, skulked, half-hidden, at the back of the group. And of course, I wouldn't allow any of them to be photographed until I fixed them up myself.
Fleur, of course, looked perfect no matter what, so I left her alone, but she looked fairly amused as I fussed over the boys. Standing in front of Viktor, I fixed his deep red cloak, and smoothed his short hair, though he didn't seem to mind in the least. He stared into my eyes the entire time, and I after I finished, I gave him a bright smile, before I moved onto Cedric.
Cedric was outright grinning as I fixed his hair. Honestly, it was almost as bad as Harry's, but whereas Harry's hair was jet black and hopelessly wild and curly, Cedric's was a deep golden brown color and just wind-whipped. I also fixed his yellow and black tie, seeing that it was crooked, and before I finished with him, he gave my hair another tug.
Then I turned on Harry, who grumbled good-naturedly but leaned into my touch as I mussed his hair on purpose, learning that somehow that made it look better. I also straightened his shirt and tie, and when I finished fixing his collar I let my arms trail lightly down his arms and brush his hands. Luckily, at that point, the others had been watching Rita and her photographer pose the others, and the gesture went unnoticed, though Harry gave me a warm, lopsided smile. We were good again.
Of course, the photographer seemed keenest to get Fleur at the front, and Rita Skeeter looked as though she was dying to drag Harry to the forefront, but one glance at me dispelled her of those notions. Then, she insisted on separate shots of all the champions. At last we were free to go, and I shot Rita one last warning look before we all left together.
I told the other champions that we'd see them at dinner, and I dragged Harry quickly down to the dungeons, where we arrived two minutes before the bell would ring. "Why did we come here instead of straight to the Great Hall?" Harry asked finally.
"I wanted to get Hermione." I said.
"She could've met us up at the Great Hall." Harry insisted. I rolled my eyes at him.
"Or not. I don't want her walking down here by herself in Slytherin territory with all of them down here, especially with Ron acting like a prat." I said. Finally understanding my logic, we waited a second until the bell signaling the end of the day's lessons rung, and the class streamed out of the Potions room.
Ron looked at us, and I saw the slight longing in his eyes before he continued on his way with Dean and Seamus. Hermione saw us and her eyes lit up, and we even waited for Neville before we all journeyed up to the Great Hall, with Harry and I explaining about where we were.
"You lied to Snape?" Hermione asked, incredulously.
I laughed. "Hey," I said, raising my hands, "I was there for moral support to Harry."
Hermione huffed. "I suppose…"
We ate dinner and then headed back up to the Gryffindor Tower, where Ron rudely informed Harry that he had an owl. It was Ario. And as soon as he saw me, he flew to me and perched carefully on my shoulder, where I stroked his feathers.
"I don't know whether I want to talk to him or hit him…" Harry sighed after Ron had left the room.
Harry and Hermione both went to their dorms, grabbed some more of their more personal items and the three of us went up to the East Tower, cautious as usual and we settled into our usual spots in my room as Harry read Sirius's reply out loud.
Harry –
I can't say everything I would like to in a letter, it's too risky in case the owl is intercepted— though he seems scarily intelligent and capable. Good job not using Hedwig by the way, and this little guy blends in perfectly with the night. Anyway, we need to talk face-to-face. Can you ensure that you are alone by the fire in Gryffindor Tower at one o'clock in the morning on the 22nd of November?
I know better than anyone that you can look after yourself and while you're around Dumbledore and Moody I don't think anyone will be able to hurt you. However, someone seems to be having a good try. Entering you in that tournament would have been very risky, especially right under Dumbledore's nose. Be on the watch, Harry. I still want to hear about anything unusual. Let me know about the 22nd of November as quickly as you can.
Sirius
I knew that the sight of Sirius would cheer Harry up immensely, but I was fairly surprised when he asked Hermione and I to be there with him. He wanted me to meet Sirius. I agreed, and the next two weeks passed fairly easier. The shock of Harry being the fourth champion had somewhat worn off, and I made sure that Harry and Hermione spent all of their free time training so hard that they didn't have time to stress or think about the upcoming first task.
Harry and Hermione were both incredibly magically talented, but while Hermione had a larger repertoire of spells, Harry had more raw magic and reserves. And because of that, I was confused as to why he couldn't master a simple Summoning Spell. One day, we were in the Room of Requirement training, and I was watching Harry get more and more frustrated.
"Alright Harry, stop –"
"No," he growled, "I can do this!"
"Not if you're all angry and shit! Dammit Harry, there's no reason to take that out on me when I'm trying to fucking help!" I snapped. I was still feeling the lingering effects of the full moon and it worried me. They had never lasted beyond three days after the full moon passed. I took a calming breath, aware that Hermione was gazing at me thoughtfully. Oh great...
I walked over to Harry and rubbed his temples lightly with my fingertips. His eyes immediately fluttered shut and I hummed a bit, knowing that my voice calmed him down considerably and when I felt that he was calm, I stopped. "Alright Harry, listen to me." I said. He nodded.
"There are three main parts to doing a spell," I lectured, slipping into teacher-mode. I saw that even Hermione looked interested. "When doing a spell, any spell not just this one, it's all about intent, image, and will. You can't just wave your wand, say some words, and expect something to happen. First, you have to want it to happen. I'll use this spell as an example. You have to want to summon the object. Next, you have to see it in your mind." I explained, grinning at their rapt attention.
"The clearer the image you can pull up in your mind of you summoning the object, the easier it'll happen. And finally, probably the most important step, you have to will it to happen. You can't rely on your magic to do one-hundred percent of the work; you have to help it along." I turned to the pillow Harry had been trying –and failing—to summon for the better part of thirty minutes, and summoned it easily.
"Now, go ahead and try it how I just explained. And for Merlin's sake Harry," I said exasperated, "don't force it, you have to remain calm. Emotions affect a spell more than you might think."
Harry nodded, and stood staring at the mountain of pillows across the room. He took a deep breath, and seemed to be concentrating. "Accio pillows!" Suddenly, one pillow didn't fly towards him, the whole mountain did. Sidestepping it, I watched as Harry was promptly buried beneath them.
Hermione and I had a good laugh at that, but after giving that explanation, Harry seemed to master spells rather quickly. We had taken a break after mastering a few other spells, and I bit my lip before making a decision. I had the room supply a training dummy and stood up. "Alright, I wasn't sure if I should teach this spell to you two, but I figured that it might save your neck in a battle someday." I said. "It's extremely dangerous," both of them looked immediately interested, "and it's not to be used lightly, especially not in a stupid, schoolyard duel with someone…like Malfoy." I said, looking pointedly at Harry.
"Alright fine, we get it. Only use it in a serious situation, but what does it do?" Harry asked. Rolling my eyes, I turned to the dummy and raised my wand, and waved it.
"Magna Tonitrus!" I cast. Immediately, a bolt of pure white lightning shot from my wand and hit the dummy in the chest, causing it to explode.
Harry and Hermione were staring, wide-eyed, from the dummy to me. "That spell depends on the intensity of the caster, so even in a serious battle, unless you're aiming to kill, monitor the amount of magic you put behind that." I warned. "That's only a lesser version of a similar spell. The other spell doesn't depend on intensity, it kills the target immediately no matter what, and that's why I won't be teaching you that spell for a while." I said.
Harry and Hermione took turns trying the spell, and at the end of an hour, they had both managed to create a somewhat decent bolt of lightning.
That night, while Harry was taking a shower in his own room in the East Tower, Hermione looked up from her book, looking undecided about something.
"What is it, Mione?" I asked.
"I—" she began, "Are you a werewolf?" she asked suddenly.
I stared at her, shocked, but then realized I should've seen this coming, especially what with the way she'd been watching me lately. If anybody would've figured that out, it would've been Hermione. "Why do you ask that?" I asked, purposefully dodging her question.
Hermione flushed. "I-it's just that, you show similarities with umm, Professor Lupin. Last year, around the full moon he'd be sick and would miss days, and he'd be really withdrawn and such. But with you, around the full moons, you become irritable and snappish. Also," Hermione said, "your eyes seem to glow and pulse around the time of the full moon, and your teeth…" she trailed off.
"You are way too observant for your own good, Mione." I said, grinning. "But no, I'm not a werewolf. Not exactly, anyway…"
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean 'not exactly'?" she asked.
"My family, the Grey family, is perhaps one of the oldest pureblood families in the wizarding world, older than even the Founders," I began. Hermione's eyes widened, and she paid rapt attention as I spoke. "I don't really know how, and I suppose I'd just chalk it up to the mystery of magic, but my family is descended from the original werewolves. They were much different back in that time, and didn't transform into the sad, creatures they are today. Back then, it was more like being a wolf Animagus, but they were size of warhorses. They could also transform at will, but around the full moon they were at their most powerful."
I sighed and swung a bit harder on the swinging bench that I lounged on. "Anyway, the power's been diluted over the centuries, what with bringing in new blood, and other magical creatures like vampires and veela –"
"Is that why you're so pretty and athletic?" Hermione interupted. I shrugged.
"I suppose, or it could just be good genes." I grinned cockily. "Like I said, the power's been diluted over the centuries so I can't actually transform but I have wolfish traits, and I become a bit more powerful around this time, as well as the snappish part, and the eyes and teeth thing. I suppose that if I became an Animagus, my form might be a huge wolf, I'm not sure about that though."
"That is so interesting…" Hermione breathed. "And it explains so much –"
"I know, just…please don't tell Harry yet." I pleaded.
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Why not?"
I hesitated. "I don't want him to know just yet. Honestly, you wouldn't know either if you hadn't already figured it out. It's nothing personal, I'm just not ready for anyone else to know."
That night, I lied in bed, tracing lazy circles into Harry's back. It had long since become a habit for him to turn up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep or waking up from a nightmare, and spend the night in my room with me. Anyway, that night I was pondering all that had happened to me already since I had started at Hogwarts, and I felt guilty.
The trio, especially Harry, had practically told me all of their secrets and yet, I was still keeping so many from them. Plus, I knew that Harry and I were closer than just friends, and I knew he wanted something more, but I hadn't fully explored that avenue yet. I cared for Harry a great deal, and I didn't want my secrets to get in between us, but I had kept them for so long, I didn't know how to tell him. I hoped I'd figure it out soon…