Chapter 21
Climbing out of bed that morning, Louis groaned in pain. His bones hurt. However, that thought barely graced his mind before he found himself swaying and falling onto the floor. The whole world was tipping, bleeding together in a blur of colors and sounds. Bile rose in his throat, or maybe it was just the illusion of it, either way he fought it down and struggled to breathe. Today was not going to be a good day.
Louis knew what this was, had been fighting it for months, years really, but it had been a long time since it had been this bad. The last time he had an episode like these past few months had been at the Dursley's and even with the orphanages tiny rations he had never been so starved to have such a reaction as he did now.
It had gotten out of control. He knew what some of the others thought of him. Just last week he had heard a group of fourth year girls sighing over his figure and Anna Lewis whispering sharply to her best friend the dreaded words of an eating disorder. He saw the worried glances his professors would occasionally throw at him, why even Professor Snape had been looking at him sharply during their potions lessons when he thought no one was looking. Professor Flitwick, and even McGonagall, had started to say something only to be politely cut off by him. He didn't want to hear it, didn't want to acknowledge it. He knew his friends had noticed, and not just because of the shy question from Tonks or the pointed looks from Hermione at lunch, but because of the way Draco would slip pieces of candy into his bag during Transfiguration, right in front of an "oblivious" McGonagall, and the way Neville would grasp his shoulder silently when he stumbled, not even saying a word to acknowledge what they all knew. The point was though was that none of them, not his friends, peers, or professors, seemed inclined to actually do something, to point blank force him to get better. They thought he could handle it and while he would normally agree, today he knew better.
Today was a bad day and on bad days he was horribly honest with himself. Brushing his teeth with a slightly shaky hand, Louis peered into his own eyes and thought about how horrible it had gotten.
When he was younger, the Dursley's had often used food based punishments. He cooked meals for them daily and was often denied even half a slice of uncooked bread. He would go to bed many nights with an empty stomach, pains shooting up his chest, festering in his core with a small whine. Eventually, he had learned how to ignore it, how to curve it. Water helped, as did the gum he would sometimes find and steal from desks and tabletops. When they had "lost" him in Paris and been brought to the orphanage, he had learned how to eat better. Sure their meals were small and sometimes nonexistence but he still ate more frequently and more of than he had before. He had learned how to steal properly for the younger children so they could eat on those bad days and when things had gotten really bad he had learned how to ignore those pangs once more, folding back into older habits, and this had had the unfortunate side effect of him eating less, even when the food was there. He could handle the sacrifices, the others could not. He didn't want them to. When Shira had entered his life he had found a brief reprieve. She always made a point to buy him meals and it hadn't taken her long to discover his lack of appetite and problems with food. The meals got smaller at first, full of nutrients, and when she recognized his growing stomach, she had upped the size, but not by much for he still couldn't do it, even after all these years. Her visits were rare after all and that wasn't enough of a change in time to suddenly make him healthy. When he had first received his Hogwarts letter he had briefly thought that he could use the time to increase his calories and food intake but that hadn't quite worked out. The meals were hearty and large and not a single person around him ate as little as he did, not even closer. He had felt uncomfortable, watching the way they would eye him weirdly, as if there was something biologically wrong with him, as if he weren't like them. He had ended up skipping meals altogether, showing up only about twice a week to breakfast and lunch. He always went to dinner though, awkwardly moving his food around on a plate, smooshing it together and hiding it in napkins to make it look like he was eating so he could hide from their judgemental gazes. Still, he knew some of his fellow Ravenclaws were watching close enough to know it was just a facade. He never looked up to know who though. He was sure he could guess.
It's not like he didn't want to eat though, not really. He wasn't purposely not eating he just couldn't bring himself to do so. He wasn't not eating due to a fear of being fat, like Anna lewis thought. He didn't have an eating disorder. Not in the traditional sense anyway. If he had to label it he would just call it a side effect of his upbringing and a lack of appetite. He was sure this was something else, and not something as simple as an eating disorder. He wasn't scared of his weight. Really he wasn't.
Grabbing a tight hold onto the cup he kept in his bathroom, Louis filled it to the brim with water from the pipe and drank it quickly, like a thirsty man in the desert. His stomach twinged a bit in protest but he ignored it, filling the cup up again and drinking that just as quickly too. A sharp gasp of pain dug behind his eyes and he closed them tightly, waiting for it to bypass, before he opened them again and left the small room, grabbing his bag and exiting, throwing a brief goodbye to the sleeping Natasha and Sanguini.
He made his way towards the Great Hall slowly, breathing somewhat harshly through his nose, and adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder, trying to shift its weight around. It was really heavy and dragging him down.
"Hey, Louis." A friendly voice said from behind him, just over his right shoulder, and he jumped slightly, turning his head to stare with wide, panicked eyes at the greeter.
Cho sidled up next to him and flashed a nice, sweet smile. "Haven't talked to you in awhile. You missed the last discussion Friday. We missed your inputs." She was polite with her words but he could hear the genuinity in them and smiled in both thanks and apology.
"I've just been really tired and busy lately." He explained simply, closing his eyes as a bat of dizziness hit him once more, though not as harsh as the one this morning.
He felt Cho's hand on his shoulder. "You okay, Louis?" Her voice said, the words coming out slow and muffled to him.
He opened his mouth to reply, digging his hands into the places above his eyes. "Yeah, I just-"
He didn't get to answer though for he found his body tipping, dropping, sliding, the ground coming up to meet his face and he could hear the sound of something drop, hitting the ground, and Cho's surprised gasp as darkness edged his vision.
The last thought he had before everything disappeared was Shit.
"What's this one do?" The little voice asked, pointing to chess piece in front of him.
The older man looked to what he was pointing at before giving a shrug, smiling guiltily. "Want to know a secret, kid?"
He nodded quickly, excited at the idea of having a secret to carry around. One that wasn't his own that is.
"I don't even know how to play chess. I just move the pieces around and apologize when someone yells that I can't do that." The man whispered, chuckling lightly.
Harry's lips twitched into a smile. Adults were weird. Nonetheless, he liked that Mr. Chaplin was just as clueless as he was about things. Especially chess.
He pushed the book towards the woman, struggling to slide the heavy tomb across the counter. He heard her laugh.
"Tolstoy? Aren't you a bit young for this, lad? Wouldn't you prefer Dr. Suess? Maybe Carroll?" The librarian asked, peering at him with raised eyebrows, amused at the idea of such a little boy reading those pages, much less understanding them.
He stared at her, leveling her with an unamused gaze. "I want that book, please." He said flatly, not even bothering to argue with him.
She frowned at him, fingering the corner of the book. "Don't you think-"
"Margaret." A voice said from behind the woman and an older woman with a warm, red sweater stepped forward. "Give him his book."
The counter lady, Margaret, looked between the two of them before mumbling an okay. As she checked the book out to him, he looked at the elderly woman and smiled when she winked at him, grinning. He winked back.
Fingers carded through his hair, nails digging gently into his scalp, scratching it lightly. He purred and nuzzled towards them, eyes closed as he turned his head in their lap.
He was lying on something soft, probably a sofa if he had to guess, with his head in someone's lap. They were extremely warm. A soft laugh sounded from above him.
"I know you're awake, Harry."
He groaned and shifted closer, head pressing into their stomach. They were so warm . . . .
"I don't want to wake up." He complained, nose twitching.
"But you have to." The voice above him argued simply, tone neutral.
"I don't want to leave you." He confessed in a whisper, turning onto his side to wrap his arms around their thigh, clinging tightly. He smelt the faint scent of something sweet.
"I don't want you to either but you must leave. You don't belong here, Harry. You know that." The voice said brokenly, hand pausing in his hair before tugging on it gently and going back to carding through it.
"I love you, Mum." He whispered back after a couple of minutes, eyes starting to sting with emotion.
He heard a watery sigh from above and another hand reached out to pull him closer to the body he was resting on. "I love you too, Harry. So much."
He opened his eyes.
"-you a thing, Miss Chang." A worn voice said from somewhere to his left and Louis struggled to turn his head, feeling heavy and tired. However, all he saw was a sheet closed there, blocking his view but not his ears. Looking around, he found himself in a bed, tucked tightly in, with sheets enclosing him in, keeping eyes both out and in. He faintly heard someone, probably Cho if the voice was to be trusted, sigh in frustration before it replied.
"Can I at least wait in the hall for him? I just want to talk with him and make sure he's okay." Yep. Definitely Cho.
He heard the voice from before again. "Very well. You can wait outside and if Mr. Thompson is agreeable, you may speak to him once I am done, but only if he wants, Miss Chang."
"Yes ma'am. Thank you." Cho said gratefully. He could hear the sounds of her footsteps as she walked out and the sound of the door closing behind her.
The sheet surrounding his bed was suddenly yanked to the side and he looked up to meet the stern eyes of an older woman whom he knew to be Madam Pomfrey, the school mediwitch/nurse.
She tsked at him. "Well it's good to know you're alive and awake, Mr. Thompson. Gave your friend and I quite the scare."
He bowed his head. "I'm sorry."
She hmmed. "None of that now, what I want to know is why you haven't been eating? Your scans showed that you have next to nothing in your system and from the looks of it, this has been going on for quite a long time. Years, if I'm not mistaken."
He remained silent but that didn't seemed to disturb her for she went on, almost as if his response, or rather lack of, was expected. "My scans have also uncovered past injuries, injuries that should have left scars and yet I found none of those. They are also along the lines of what we would find alongside children from physically abusive households. Tell me, Mr. Thompson, why would you have such injuries?"
Her voice wasn't full of pity or sympathy, not even anger, either for the idea of the cause or at him, and while he appreciated this greatly, for he didn't want her pity, he continued to remain silent, keeping his gaze on his bedsheets. He heard her sigh and close a file that he assumed was open in her hands. His file, his mind supplied.
"I'm going to assume that for the lack of scarring you have either found some very good scar cream and gotten rid of them or, more likely, applied a glamour. If the latter, I must congratulate you on such an advanced piece of magic for one your age. I have no legal right to remove the glamour, should it be there, however since I do not have enough of a probable cause. Your past injuries, after all, could be caused by a number of things besides abuse, however much I doubt it, and your current injuries are mostly internal and I cannot see those anyway. External views would only be for my own sake. We can record your actual weight easily enough, as a glamour wouldn't affect that, as well as anything internal with just a wave of my wand, so whatever you are hiding is safe for now, Mr. Thompson."
He still said nothing.
She sighed again and he could feel the bed shift as her weight was added onto it, the woman sitting by his knees. He flinched when a hand clasped his own, giving it a squeeze.
"I know you don't want to tell anyone how you got those injuries, Louis. I know that you're scared and that fear is crushing your lungs right now, making it hard to breathe and that a part of you wants to open up, to confess your secrets, and I also know that right now, your mind is blank and silent, silent screams hissing at the edges, and you're not sure what to do other than to deny anything, as that's all you've ever done. Nonetheless, I shall tell you that I am here should you want to tell me anything, even when I know that you won't, and even though you and I both know these are past injuries and most likely won't happen again, they still hold an effect. We can get whoever did that to you to pay, Louis, but you have to tell someone for that to happen." She paused, hoping he would speak up here, would tell her everything she wanted to know, but she was right. They both knew he wouldn;t say a damn thing. Not now, at least. She squeezed his hand again. "That's okay. I know. At the very least, if there's anything I can do for you from a medical standpoint, just write it down and I'll help with what I can and know that my door is open should you ever need it. I have tea every Sunday at 6 if you're interested."
She got up then and left, flashing him a look he was sure as she disappeared behind the sheets once more. He kept his gaze on the blankets, knowing she'd be back in a minute. A numbness had settled over him and he suddenly felt extremely exhausted. A sadness enveloped him and he wanted to curl beneath his blankets and hide forever, to sleep until he woke up from this dream, this nightmare. Madam Pomfrey might not be telling anyone but he knew that she knew. How could she not? But he also knew that it was over. The Dursley's had been years ago and there was nothing to do now. He wasn't being abused, there was nothing really to do but move on. She knew that and maybe . . . maybe she could help him with that. Not officially as he wasn't ready to tell her anything about the Dursley's, even if he did substitute names to protect his identity. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be ready to tell someone anything about them. His nights were haunted enough with their faces and hands. Why bring them out during the day too? He just wanted to forget. He lifted his eyes up and caught sight of a piece of parchment and a self-inked quill on the nightstand next to his bed. Just because he couldn't talk about it didn't mean he couldn't get help for it though.
Madam Pomfrey returned many minutes later with a tray of potions. She handed them to him one at a time, explaining as he drunk them what they were.
"You are to come see me before every meal and before bed to take your potions. The first one is a nutrient potion and only needs to be taken once, preferably in the morning before breakfast. It'll help your body get stronger in ways that it's been missing due to your lack of nutrition. This next one is basically a calcium supplement. It'll strengthen your bones and also only needs to be taken once a day. We'll give you this at lunch. Next is a potion for your muscles and organs. You're body is incredibly weak, not as much as would be expected but enough to cause worry, and you'll take it before bed so it can work while you sleep. The same can be said for the this next potion, which is to strengthen your immune system. Our final one here is a stomach balancer, you'll need it for every meal as it'll help you eat and keep it down. It decreases your chances of vomiting, easing nausea. We're taking them all now as it's best to start as soon as possible but I want you to start seeing me at the appropriate times starting today. Later I'll be giving you a dreamless sleep potion to help you sleep. You'll get that one every two days as I don't want you to become addicted. We'll keep you on a strict routine for all of these, decreasing your intakes when ready. I also have a meal plan for you to follow." She passed him a rolled up piece of parchment for him to look at. "I have it divided up into days for now. We'll adjust it when I think you can handle more. For now, though, we need to start out small. I want you to eat four small meals a day. Breakfast, lunch, a snack, and dinner. I've written out suggested meals and sizes for you to begin with as you can see. Once your stomach can handle these portions we'll build up your intake to make it five small meals, then one big meal and four small, then two and one small with one snack, then two, then three large meals and one small snack, then two. That'll take a while though. We'll have to make a big schedule for summer time but we should be fine. Do you have any summer plans yet that we'll need to work with or should I just send your guardian a meal plan to follow?"
He swallowed thickly. "Um no, my summer is . . . complicated. I'll take the plans and follow them. Though." He promised. Madam Pomfrey eyed him sharply, testing his honesty, before nodding.
"Very well. That's all I have to say. You're professors have been notified that you will not be attending classes for the next two days, as you are currently here sick, and before you ask I have not informed them that it is related to your weight. Patient confidentiality. They have no reason to know the specifics, nor does the Headmaster, as I will be here to monitor your meals, making sure you follow them." He was all to aware that the woman ate in the Great Hall with the students and professors for every meal. She would most definitely be watching him. "Another thing, you will be required to be weighed weekly as I want to monitor your progress. We'll do this every Thursday, since we're starting on one. Any questions?" He shook his head, clutching the parchment in his hand tightly. "Very well. Now, Miss Chang was the one who brought you in when you collapsed in the hall, and as such, is quite concerned. She's waiting in the hall and would like to see you. Do you want me to fetch her?" Knowing he would have to confront the girl sooner than later, he nodded, wanting to get it over with.
Madam Pomfrey nodded her head sharply and ducked behind the curtains once more. He could hear her shoes clapping against the floor as she approached the Hospital Wing doors, opening them to talk to Cho and let her in. Sure enough, a minute later, Cho shyly shifted the curtains aside and smiled at him, sitting herself down right where Madam Pomfrey had sat not that long ago. He fought the urge to look down and returned her gaze, staring into her dark eyes.
Cho shifted around awkwardly before speaking after a moment a tense silence. "How are you?"
He swallowed thickly. "Fine."
Cho nodded numbly, eyes falling to stare at nothing. She kept nodding her head slowly and upon noticing this, stopped, instead shifting to pick at her nails. He watched her swallow, adam's apple bobbing as she did so. He oddly noted on that, for it was a misconception that women didn't have one. They did. It just wasn't as obvious or large. Laryngeal prominence, his mind supplied flatly.
She suddenly jerked, body shifting to face him on squarely as she sniffed roughly. Tears sparked at her eyes and he was both confused and oddly warm at the sight of them.
"Gosh, Louis, do you have any idea how terrified I was?" He remained silent. He didn't think she wanted an answer. "I mean, you j-just fell! With no warning! Your nose was bleeding and it was everywhere . . . it just wouldn't stop and you wouldn't wake up . . . God, Louis, I thought you were dead!" She was staring at him, face angry and sad at the same time. He felt as if he could see a ghost of that terror now, staring at him in the face as if he were a ghost, a haunted memory. Maybe she had hoped it was all a dream. He surely did.
"I thought you were dead." She whispered this again, chewing on her bottom lip.
He swallowed again. His throat was very dry and chest tight. He couldn't really breathe. An intense wave of guilt wrapped around him. "I'm sorry." He whispered back. Cho just shook her head.
"What happened?"
He pondered for a moment not telling her, giving her a bit of the truth but not the whole, never the whole, but he felt as if he ought to tell her at least, as if he owed her. Besides, this whole process would be easier on him, for him, if he had someone to help him along the way. He liked Cho enough to trust her anyway. The older girl had been very kind to him when he had first arrived at Hogwarts, insisting he sat with her at meals and drawing him into conversations in the Common Room. She had even brought him little things throughout the year, a blanket here, a cookie there. Yes, he could trust Cho with this.
"I-I've been having some problems . . . with eating. Not intentional ones, mind you. It's . . . it's not like that. I just . . . haven't been eating like I should. Haven't for a long time and it's just . . . just caught up with me now."
Cho nodded, as if this revelation wasn't a surprise to her at all, and perhaps it wasn't. Perhaps she had heard the other children talking like he had or maybe it was just her own observations. She had definitely noticed, as she had talked to him before about his meal times, but still. He had expected some kind of reaction.
"Are you going to be getting better now?" She asked and he knew she was asking about more than just him eating habits. They both knew this was more than that.
He nodded. "Madam Pomfrey's started me on a potion regimen and I have a meal plan to follow with it." His words came out slow, as if he were having difficulty saying them. He wasn't sure how true that was.
Cho bit her lips again. "Good. I'll cover for you when you go to get your potions. Don't worry about that. I'll figure out good excuses."
He felt his throat tighten again and nodded gratefully. "Thank you." He said them so softly that he wasn't sure she had heard them, wasn't sure if he had even said them, but Cho nodded so he assumed so.
"Did you tell anyone? About what happened?" He asked, needing to know the answer. He couldn't have the others knowing. Just having her and Madam Pomfrey here, knowing just one of his secrets, was enough to cause him worry and panic.
Cho shook her head and he almost sighed in relief aloud. "The hall was empty when you fell, save us of course, and no one saw me bringing you to the Hospital Wing. I made sure of it. Hermione asked me if I had seen you at lunch but I told her that you were sick and shouldn't be disturbed. She probably thinks you're in your room, as do your other friends, no doubt."
He closed his eyes. "Thank you for that. Really."
A hand grasped his own, fingers linking through his, and squeezed it tightly. "It's no problem. It can be our little secret."
He breathed through his nose. "Our secret."
Following Madam Pomfrey's instructions, Louis soon began to gain some weight. He still wasn't eating as much as his peers, not even close, but that was expected. Still, he was eating much more than he had been before. A single meal was more than before though so it wasn't that drastic of a change. He knew this was going to be a long road and was prepared for that. He was still throwing up some of his meals, even with the potions to help the nausea, but more was staying than before so he wasn't that concerned. He was just taking it a day, a meal, at a time.
Cho had been a blessing through the whole ordeal. His morning potions were easy, for all he had to do was wake up a little earlier to head on down to the Hospital Wing and arrive to breakfast at his usual time. Lunch was a little harder, as he had to escape his friends, but he had just told them that he wanted to check up on Natasha, that she hadn't been feeling so well herself lately. For now, this was working, but he knew it wouldn't last long. He had only been on the potions a week though, so he figured he could use it for another day or two before switching excuses. Dinner and before bed were the hardest, as Hermione was usually hovering around those times and the others were usually there before dinner too for study group. He made a point to excuse himself about an hour before he had to see the mediwitch, claiming to want some personal, quiet time, that way no one would come looking for him and he could slip away easily enough. Before bed, though, was a bit harder and was when Cho would pop up, telling the prefects that she and Louis were going to Flitwick and would thus have either a note or the professor himself ready to forestall any complications, keeping them all out of trouble, or she would find an excuse to drag him from the Common Room or Neville, claiming to need his help for something or another.
Cho had also started mothering him. The girl made a point to sit by him at breakfast's, dragging him into the seat by her and Roger, who she always ate breakfast with. Sometimes Marietta or Hermione were there, but Hermione usually ate with Padma and Lisa at meals, and sometimes Pansy, who was still most comfortable with Padma and a little reserved towards everyone else, and Marietta was often either asleep or getting ready still or was eating with her boyfriend, Jacobs. Cho would make his plate every morning, not even bothering to listen to his protests or Roger's smug teasing. She would do practically the same thing at dinner's, much to his chagrin. Luckily he got a reprieve at lunches, for he would sit at the Gryffindor table with the others, but that soon ended when Draco took the job over himself, not even questioning the wide stares and crooked smirks around him. Honestly, he was surrounded by nut cases. Outside of classes, Cho would find a reason to wrap a blanket around his shoulder in the Common Room, despite the fact he always sat by the fire, and Cho was always, without fail, the one to provide him his Madam Pomfrey approved snacks, slipping them into little bags in his own bag or casually handing him one in the middle of a conversation, whether or not she was apart of said conversation or not. For the most part, Louis couldn't bring himself to be annoyed and was honestly quite comforted by her actions. She would probably calm down after another week or so anyway, once the sight of him pale and bloody on the ground got out of her head, he was sure.
During the past week, his friend's reactions to the whole ordeal were pretty mild. Upon noticing his now no longer empty plate or mushed up mountains of uneaten food, they had merely looked at him for a second before turning away, as if they were not aware of the implications. He was grateful for this. He didn't want them to register the elephant in the room. If Tonks and Hermione were a bit more fretful or Draco a bit more possessive, than no one said a word. Even the twins, with their often joking ways, didn't say a thing. While they weren't the ones to be blatantly pushing him through this, he felt comforted by their presence and felt as if those quiet moments at meals, when they would all look at him and him them, were the moments he realized they were truly there for him.
Meanwhile, when he had returned from the Hospital Wing from his "sickness", he had been notified of their upcoming detention for that weekend. Apparently, they would all be spending a few hours in the night with Hagrid out in the Forbidden Forest. At first, Louis had laughed, only to be looked at and told they were serious. After that, Louis had contemplated how sane this school really was. First they harbored an extremely attractive and thu dangerous important magical artifact in a school, then they decided to send students into a forest that was rumored to have rabid magical creatures and other deadly things at night. He would be surprised if he survived the first year.
On another note, he had yet to receive a reply from either Remus Lupin or Sirius Black. Lupin, he was sure, was still contemplating what to do or was maybe deciding how to respond in the most polite of ways possible. Black, whom he had made sure to send a self inking quill (just in case the man didn't know of pens) and some parchment to reply with, was probably trying to figure out if someone was tricking him, if he should trust the sender. In the end, Louis wasn't surprised by their lack of speed and continued to patiently wait. As for the letter the group had sent to the Flamel's, they were still waiting for a reply on that one as well. This one was a bit more discerning, as he couldn't imagine a blatant specific reason, but nonetheless, Louis kept calm and waited with the others.
And so, with nothing to do on this Friday evening, Louis found himself with his friends, save a NEWT studying Tonks, back at the lake. Fred and George were leaning against the tree trunk, George with his head tipped back too and eyes closed peacefully and Fred with an open journal in his lap. Neville lay on his stomach by them with Hermione sitting criss crossed next to the boy. Neville was fiddling with a smooth edged rock and Hermione was reading a book that he couldn't see the title of. Draco sat in a manner similar to Hermione, though with no book for he was carding his hands through Louis's hair for Louis had his head rested in the blonde's lap.
"So what are you guys doing for summer vacation? School's almost out. Less than two months left now." It was true. They were already into April.
Hermione's eyes lifted from her book. "I'll probably be going somewhere with my parents. They like to do family vacations whenever we can and I imagine they'll be especially excited this year since I've been away so long."
"Gran and I usually go to the States during the summer, spend about a whole month there with one of her old friends from Hogwarts. America has pretty good Herbology programs over there," said Neville, adding the last part in a fevered whisper. The Hufflepuff would no doubt try to get him grandmother to enlist him into a summer program for children. Louis hoped he got in.
"We'll probably just mess around at home." Shrugged Fred, picking at his paper.
"Maybe Bill or Charlie will head on down?" George commented lowly. Fred snorted.
"Doubt it. They moved so far away for a reason. When's the last time they came for a visit?" George didn't answer.
Everyone, save Louis, shifted their eyes around awkwardly. Hermione cleared her throat.
"What about you, Draco?"
Louis felt the hand still momentarily in his hair before it continued at a slower, more hesitant pace. "I'm . . . uh . . .not too sure about what I'll be doing this summer."
Nails dug into his scalp a little roughly. Hermione continued, oblivious of the danger ahead of them. "Well what do you guys normally do?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Louis saw Neville glance warily over at Hermione. Draco breathed roughly through his nose. "I imagine Mother and Father will still be going over to France. It's their favorite time of year to go."
Louis noted the lack of the boy's own inclusion in that visit and felt his heart ache a little. Hermione seemed to note it as well, but not the reasoning for it. "What about you? Won't you be joining them?"
"I seriously doubt it, Hermione." Snipped Draco. He was nearing his patience of such a sensitive subject.
"Well why not?"
"Because I was sorted into Gryffindor, okay?!" Draco snapped, his hand carding faster through Louis's hair and nails gripping it roughly, as he glared at the girl. "I'm the freak of my family, Hermione! No one, and I do mean no one, has ever been sorted into Gryffindor in the Malfoy line. Ravenclaw sure, a Hufflepuff a few times, but never Gryffindor. You don't know what it's like. You're a muggleborn, your parents are just proud that you're here. There's no pressure to tradition."
Hermione had flinched back at Draco's admission, her hands gripping her closed book tightly to her side and eyes wide. Neville cleared his throat thickly.
"He's right you know. Pureblood lines tend to stick within the same houses. They think it's because of family magic and raising your children in similar manners to your own childhood, essentially breeding a copy, over and over again. Gran told me in no uncertain terms to get into Gryffindor. Fortunately for me, Hufflepuff is close enough for her."
"Weasley's are always Gryffindor's. Always." Fred muttered.
"I've never even heard of one that wasn't." George sighed.
"My parents hate me." whispered Draco brokenly. "Father hasn't talked to me at all. Mother only set me the "we're disappointed in you" letter after the Sorting. Even then I bet a house elf wrote it for her. Malfoy crest and all. I wasn't even allowed over for Christmas. Spent the whole break with Tonks. I'm just waiting for the letter from Gringotts that says I've been disowned."
"My parents aren't as pleased as you would all think. They're muggles and while a part of them is happy for me, they mostly just don't understand. They'll say things without meaning to that are insulting. I can't tell you how many times before and during Christmas they asked me if I was sure I wanted to learn magic, if I didn't want to go to a normal school. Normal. As if there was something wrong with me. They love me, I know that. It's just . . . . They just . . . they don't understand who, what, I am anymore and I'm afraid they never will." Hermione confessed, tears staining her cheeks as she talked. George reached over and grasped her hand. She smiled thankfully at him.
"Our parents don't really understand us either." Fred said flatly, staring blankly down at the grass. He had pulled his knees toward his chest. "They get the detention notice slips and the report cards and just assume that all we are are troublemakers."
"They think we're stupid. That were not living up to our potential." George scoffed.
"Dad tries. He'll sit us down and just talk but Mom . . . "
"She yells." supplied George bittingly. "All she ever does is yell about you foolish we're being, how we need to grow up and do something productive, something real with our lives."
"They love us. There's no question to that. But they don't agree with our dreams and somehow that hurts more."
"All my Gran wants is for me to be like my dad. She misses him so much . . . and I get that I do. I may never have known him like she did but I still miss him and I'm sorry that she misses him as much as she does, that she has to live with happier memories, but . . . I'll never be him. I'll never be as strong or as smart as he was. I'm just Neville. Just Neville."
"Well I happen to like "just Neville". He's one of the best people I've ever met, heart of gold really. You couldn't ask for a nicer, more sincere guy." Louis broke in, tired of hearing the depressing mutterings of his friends. They needed to know that someone believed and cared for them exactly as they were. He sat up to be able to stare at all of them. "And Fred and George? Screw what your parents think. You're the best pranksters to walk these halls and one day, you'll make sure to supply the world with best pranksters it can have. You live your dream, because it's all you've got and it's pretty damn powerful. Hermione? You're the brightest witch of our age, kicking all sorts of ass, and who cares if you're not what your parents, or even you, thought you were going to be? You'll be better. And who cares if you're not normal? I, for one, find normal to be quite boring." He turned to face Draco. "Fuck your parents Draco. Fuck them. If they can't see that you're one of the most protective and caring and loyal people around than that's their lost. You don't need them. They're just prejudice assholes anyway. You guys are the best people I know, the very best, and it doesn't matter what anyone else says, even your parents, because I'm never going to stop believing in that. Ever."
And they all traded shaky, watery smiles and tired eyes and if a hug or two was passed around or comforting words than no one said a thing because right there, surrounded by the people that mattered, they were on top of the world. On top of it, and loving it.
A/N: Wow. Okay. So the whole "summer" conversation was not supposed to go or even end this way but I'm glad it did. That was kind of emotional for me haha. Wow. Don't even know where it came from.
This was kind of a filler chapter, dealing with Harry/Louis and is eating habits and the others and what they were dealing with a little. Cho made an appearance, whoo! She was actually supposed to have a bigger part in this story but that didn't happen. Maybe next story she will. Who knows. Not me. We'll see.
On another note, this story is almost over! About two or three more chapters. With that in mind, would you guys like to start the next story immediately after the end of this one, around the end of July, or a little before second year starts? I haven't decided yet so I figured I'd get your inputs.
Please review!