AN: Okay... Let me say something about the last chapter. I know some readers may be put off about Lily, and I plan to do something about it. I didn't want it to come off as easy to accept necessarily, but I want Lily to be in the story. She won't be playing a major part or at least I think. And I won't make it easy on her. She abandoned Harry, so she will suffer a little. Don't worry. I will patch things up and smooth it over.
Also since I got bored. I started jumping around, like I would usually do in my usual stories. If you ever read my other stories (or the stories in my head too), I love to jump POV a lot. So I'm going to do that here. I need it to move my story along. Harry is good to write and develop, but I'm not a person that can develop anything. Actions speak louder than words and all that jazz.. Blahbity blah. I wanted to keep it in Harry's POV to see how long I would last before I cracked. So it's been really long for me. I just usually last a quarter of a chapter. Oh yeah. Time to introduce a new orig char. :D I like orig chars. They're fresh material and have so many possibilities.
Harry sat in Defense Against Dark Arts brooding. He didn't know what to think about his mother. Her letter was mysterious in message. It seemed like she was very conflicted when she was writing it. The things she wrote in the letter didn't have any flow to it. It was all jumbled up, and it jumped around. She did always go back to supporting the dark side, that much Harry could see what she wanted. Harry couldn't picture his mother as cold and ruthless. If she was, then she wouldn't say she loved him in the letter. She would have said something that would express hatred, but nothing along those lines came up.
He could see how she was disappointed in him. If he was in her place, he would probably be disappointed in himself also. If he had a kid, he would most likely want them to follow in his footsteps. But turning to the dark side wouldn't be a problem to Harry. He had already expressed a liking to the dark, and he didn't see how the could learn to love the light arts. Maybe he could learn it like his mother did, but other than that, there was no need for it. Healing spells would be useful though, so he couldn't dismiss the light magic.
When Harry thoughts ran into his father, he paused. He couldn't really remember anything about his father. His father wasn't a big part in his life, and he couldn't even recall his voice. Harry didn't see a problem with his father abandoning him since he will choose the dark. You can't regret it if you don't know the person, Harry reasoned to himself. Harry really didn't feel like he would regret it.
Harry placed his head on top of his fist. He was only eleven, and he was being prompted to do some very deep thinking. "I need to get out more often," he whispered under his breath. He was already feeling a deep weight lodge itself onto his shoulders, and he could see the obstacles stack. What did he do to deserve this? He didn't even know why there was a war as it wasn't clearly specified. He didn't know why the dark lord went after him when he was a still a kid. He didn't know why he was the weapon of the light. He didn't know why he was such a great asset to the dark. There were so many questions, but there were no answers. Looks like he had to get a information network down and working.
Too much for an eleven year old to do. Harry wished he could ask for help, but his own pride and stubbornness kept him from doing so. He would have to ask for help eventually, but he didn't know if right now was a good time. It was already nearing the end of October, and he had basically nothing done. The only things he had gotten finished was getting to know people, and that wasn't a worthy achievement. He did pick up the diary, but he didn't get to peruse as much as he would have wanted to. He also befriended Hermione, someone other than a Slytherin, but she was only a part of his small group of friends that consisted of four people excluding her.
Harry blinked his eyes. Then he grabbed the object that was thrown at him. Really? Why was there a ball of parchment thrown at his head? It was a waste of perfectly good parchment, not to mention that students had a limited supply to use. He shook his head. Stupidity got the best of kids after all.
Hermione sighed. She had been watching Harry closely lately, and it was worrying her. She remembered that he had seemed less stressed when she first met him. Now it seems all he does is sigh when he is feeling stressed. She missed the friendly atmosphere they had when they were forming their tentative friendship. It was partly her fault from drawing away from him, but she couldn't help it. If Harry could be strong and survive his own problems in his house, then she should be able to. Harry had a handicap, but she didn't. She had no excuse for being weak. She wanted to tell Harry badly about the bullying when he asked, but she didn't know why she couldn't bring herself to spill. It was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit the desire down. She was sitting in the back, something that was uncharacteristic of her, but people stopped asking once it became a normal thing over the course of a couple days. She had good eyes, so it wasn't a problem where she sat. She preferred the front though. It was so much easier to ignore the students behind her while she focused on the teacher. The back was fine though. She could observe everybody from back here, and there were things you normally couldn't hear from the front.
"I dare you to throw this second wad at Potter." Hermione looked over to the red head. She kept an eye on him ever since he started bullying her. She didn't like the boy one bit. The Weasley may have cool older brothers, but it wasn't something he had to feel inferior about. Everybody had their good points, and she tried to reason with him. It didn't work as she hoped, and she had given up on trying.
"Hermione, do you think we should stop them?" the boy sitting next to her asked.
"Neville. It's ok. We don't have to do anything. Throwing a ball of parchment won't hurt Potter, and it's just a waste on their part." Neville nodded glumly. She smiled back to try to get him to cheer up, and he gave back a quick small smile. It didn't hit his eyes though. "You don't have to worry. It's not like Harry is going to die from it."
"But I wouldn't like being hit in the head with a ball of parchment. I would want my friends to stand up for me." Hermione turned to look at Neville with a confused face. They had been friends since the train ride to Hogwarts, and she didn't know much about Neville. She didn't know what to think of Neville really. He was a timid boy, and a bit on the chubby side. He was kind and that made up for his appearance. Other than that, she couldn't analyze his personality. Being kind was a simple trait, and so was being timid. But she knew there should be more to his character. She just could not find out anything. Neville was a reserved person, that much she could tell from his lack of speaking. Or that could be from his lack of friends too. He only had Hermione right now, just like she only had Neville right now.
She did have Harry also, but she did not know if they were on ends right now. She did blow off his concern for her, and that may have not been a nice thing to do. Maybe she should apologize to Harry. That would be the correct thing to do.
"What do you mean Neville?" she asked staring at Neville with pursed lips and furrowed brows. She wanted to figure out Neville as well as Harry.
Neville shook his head. "Well," he said pausing, "I just don't think its quite a nice thing for Harry since he cannot see what is being done to him. You're his friend, so you can act as his eyes while at school." Hermione's eyes widened. Why did she keep forgetting that Harry was blind? She could have smacked herself for being stupid. She had been so accustomed to Harry seeming like an average person, that she always assumed he could do things people that had sight could do. He certainly acted like he wasn't a blind person in the halls and in class, but there were limits to what he could do after all.
"You're right Neville. Do you think Harry will be mad at me for what I did last time?"
"Why don't you ask him yourself? I am not acquainted with him yet, so I kind of do not want to talk to him yet."
"Ok I'll do it this time Ron." Hermione turned to see Lee Jordan handed a ball of parchment. She sighed. Lee Jordan was a known trouble maker, and it didn't make it any less easier on her since he associated with Ron from time to time. She watched him pick up the ball and throw it a couple times in the air getting his bearings. Hermione discreetly took her wand out from under her robes and pointed it towards the ball. As soon as it left Lee's hands she whispered "Wingardium Leviosa" and watched with satisfaction as her charm got the ball. "Looks like it was actually useful for something like this." She smiled into her hand as Ron got up to try and grab the ball.
"M-Mr. Weasley, m-may I ask y-you to please sit down? You a-are disrupting the class." Hermione did her best not to laugh, but a small snicker came out. Then everyone else erupted into laughter. That had Mr. Quirrel doing his best to calm the class down. He kept stammering out in his weak little voice to calm down, but that only added on to the classes laughter. Everyone knew Mr. Quirrel was a joke. Nobody learned much in this class. In fact, it was an easy breeze of a class. No one failed if they did what Mr. Quirrel assigned. Hermione had felt bad for the teacher near the beginning of the year, but as the time passed it faded away. Now she felt indifferent about it. The man was a laughing stock no matter what he said. No one could take him seriously. When the class finally quieted down, Hermione pointedly stared at Harry. He would sense that she wanted to talk to him. Hermione saw the minute nod of his head, and she sighed. To Hermione's relief, Harry must not have been mad at her. Otherwise, he wouldn't allow her to speak to him.
Hermione really wanted to have Harry back by her side. She didn't know what to do when she saw him and couldn't go up to him to talk. She was missing him terribly, and it had only been six days since their little spat. She had been reflecting on her behavior. She saw that Harry wanted to become closer as friends, but she had no idea why she didn't accept it. She knew she would have to accept things as they were. There will be things that Harry can't tell Hermione, and she would have to accept that. They were things she couldn't tell Harry, but that was what was stopping them. She didn't reveal her hand, and Harry had. She was guilty as charged. She wasn't making an effort, and she had blamed it on the bullying. It wasn't a good excuse to neglect Harry, but she would make it up to him. She wanted to become closer friends. Harry was nice, and the friendship they had formed was worth cherishing. Or that's what she thought, but she wouldn't know that until she made up with Harry.
"Hermione?" She looked to Neville.
"What is it?"
"Why are you smiling?"
"I decided that Harry is a worth while friend, and I don't want to muck up our friendship."
"Well that's good to hear." Neville smiled encouragingly.
"Yes. I know what I have to do."