Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Three Decembers
By Emerald Riddle
2006
Part XIII: Happy?
I feel it's me My life overturned Peel me from the skin
So overwhelmed
Oh, there's precious little rising
Over the despair
All these scabs keep ripping open
Peel me from the rind
Does it make you happy now?
Happy? By Mudvayne
Harry was exhausted. He wanted desperately to sleep. Still, he worked. He worked hard and studied, even if it was at the last moment. Hermione disapproved most stronglyof that. She was pleased with him, however, he knew she was. He found that it was becoming more and more difficult to catch up when he was so infatuated with the idea of the potion he was creating. It was exciting. He wanted to be around its beautiful effects all the time. So even when he was not tired, he was depressed. Too depressed to want to care about his grades, but smart enough to know people would notice there was something wrong unless he acted normal.
Harry made a show of pretending to care a lot of the time, but no one was watching him very closely. There were quite a few geniuses at Hogwarts. Harry just happened not to be one of them. Why did school matter when he had such an important invention? Something that produced happiness?
As long as he had Hermione checking his work and keeping an eye on him in some of his classes, he would pass. Everyone, even Snape, knew that.
After a full day of classes Harry ran to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on the second floor. Nobody happened to be in the corridor at the time, and he already knew the bathroom would be empty, so he rushed in. Myrtle was nowhere to be seen. Harry took the stall farthest from the door and locked it firmly behind him.
The jar from the night before was taken out of his pocket and enlarged to its former size. Staring at it in wonder, Harry inhaled deeply.
I can't believe I'm really doing this. I can't believe I created this, I can't believe I'm lying to everyone, he thought.
"But everyone wants a hero," he whispered. "I'm not a hero. I've done so much, but I'm not a hero. I couldn't even save Ron."
His hands began to shake.
"I need to be okay," he told himself. "I need to make myself okay. I need to make myself happy."
Harry flicked his wand and a bright flame erupted from the end of it. He held the jar with one gloved hand as the other heated it up. Soon, magically soon, fumes began to float up from the jar. This time, something was a little different about them. The plumes of smoke held the faint traces of color, mostly greens. Harry watched them dance above the glass jar, pleased with himself.
The colors began to swirl before his eyes, and he began to feel as if he was soaring. Bringing his face close to them, a seductive scent wafted in his direction. He inhaled. And, he inhaled. Everything spun. Colors soared. Harry felt as if he was on the best broom in the world, flying higher than any witch or wizard ever dreamed they could. He felt weightless. His legs buckled beneath him and the jar went tumbling out of his hands and crashing to the floor.
Glass and potion shone on the white tiles. Harry stared at it in wonder before a wave of dizziness crashed in over his head. Then he was drowning. He could not breath. It felt bad yet wonderful. Panic was buzzing through his body, but his brain swam in water. Harry's stomach fluttered with thousands of tiny butterflies. He was in love, and it hurt and felt beautiful and felt like nothing. He was nothing. He was numb. Feelings, so strong. He could barely process one before the next was charging through him like a jolt of electricity.
Then Harry was blind. Everything was black. Everything was calm. He was sleepy, so sleepy. Unable to resist the potions effects, Harry collapsed on the tiles. Glass dug into his flesh. Warm potion soaked into his robes. He felt nothing.
Hours passed as he slept.
"Harry, are you okay? Where have you been?" Hermione asked, upon seeing Harry enter the common room.
Harry blinked at her. Then he smiled.
"I'm fine," he told her.
Hermione bit her lip as she examined him. Harry ignored her. Ginny approached them a moment later.
"Are you going to the game tomorrow?" she asked him.
"Game?" Harry repeated blankly.
"Yes, Harry! Quidditch! Slytherin against Hufflepuff, remember? They've been putting off the game for months now!" Ginny exclaimed, exasperated with him. "Are you okay?"
Harry chuckled easily. "Of course I am, Ginny. It just slipped my mind is all. I'm definitely going."
He gave her a big grin. "Want to sit together? I need someone to discuss tactics with before bringing them to Dra- I mean, Malfoy."
Ginny raised an eyebrow and gave him a sly, flirtatious smile. "Of course. I'll be looking forward to it," she said, and turned to return to her friends.
Harry watched her for a moment, thinking that she had grown up to be really pretty.
"What was that?" Hermione asked him.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," Hermione said, "what was that about? Sitting together? I thought we were going to sit together! You asked me weeks ago to help you!"
Harry gave her a strange look. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. Sorry, Hermione. You can still sit with me. I'm sure Ginny won't mind."
"Oh! I'm sure she won't!" Hermione laughed angrily. "You just don't get it, do you? You're just as clueless as Ron was!"
At the mention of Ron's name, Harry's easy attitude shattered. "What? What in the bloody hell are you talking about, Hermione?"
"Ginny fancies you, Harry," she hissed. "A lot of girls, students, fancy you."
"Okay, but what does that have to do with Ron? What does that have to do with anything?" Harry demanded.
Hermione shook her head, then stopped. She leaned closer and sniffed him.
"Harry, what's that smell? It smells like perfume. And you, you have glass in your hair," she said, a distant look in her eye.
Harry was quiet. Does she know? he wondered.
"Harry, Harry… Have you been with a girl? Is that where you're always off to? To go see a girl?" she asked, staring into the fireplace.
Harry's tension relaxed. He laughed. "A girl? Oh, no, Hermione. I was not out seeing a girl. I was just… taking a walk. Thinking."
"Harry… You know you can tell me anything. If it's not a girl, well, it isn't a boy, is it?"
Harry was about to tell Hermione that she knew he didn't fancy boys, but he paused. Draco's kiss rang in his mind. He had enjoyed it, didn't he? Did that mean he was gay? He hadn't any serious feelings about anyone since Cho. How could he know?
"Don't worry about me, Hermione," Harry sighed. "I'm not with anyone at the moment. Do you really think I'd keep something like that from you?" he asked her seriously.
"No, no Harry, you're right. You wouldn't."
Harry grabbed her hand for a moment and smiled. "You're my best friend."
Hermione smiled back and squeezed his hand. "I know. I love you, Harry."
With Hermione smiling at him, her face warm and pink from the fire, her eyes twinkling with happiness, Harry thought that for a moment, she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. His heart skipped a beat.
"I love you too, Hermione," he said, enveloping her in a hug. "Friends through everything, yeah?" he whispered in her ear.
She looked strangely disappointed when he removed himself from her arms.
"Yeah. Friends forever."
Neither of them saw Ginny watching them from a corner of the room. They also did not see her turn away and clench her fists after Harry excused himself to go to bed.
A/N: This is the last of the prewritten chapters. I'm working on the next one right now, so hopefully that should be up soon as well. I would really like to remind everyone that this fic is not in the final stages yet and I still need a beta/editor. If you think you're right for the job, then please do leave a comment saying so, or email me. I can definitely use more than one for several jobs not limited to helping me on the plot, grammar, characterization, ect. To everyone else, I really do listen to and consider all your reviews. You have no idea how much I appreciate it! Thanks again and remember: Reviews feed my muse!