Lars's eye slowly opened He was still lying on the floor in his now dried
blood. Had he survived?
It seemed that way indeed. He could feel the cold stone underneath him and still ached horribly from the Crutacious Curse.
He didn't want to look at himself. He didn't want to see the face that he hadn't seen in years.
It was times like these he was quite glad that Voldemort didn't own a mirror. He comforted himself with the thoughts of his lost love.
Lars closed his eyes; he could see her face so clearly. She was so beautiful. He could see every one of her short, dirty blond hairs below her ears.
He could see her every facial line and that lacy dress she cherished so. He remembered seeing her smile at him through her window.
It was such an honor to be her next door neighbor. Her parents were so caring, so trustworthy and loving.
Why did she have to eave him? Why did she have to die? It was his undying love for Mary that caused his awful hatred to THAT boy- to Harry Potter.
* * *
The end of September came with a bang; that was for sure. Winds blew across the frozen grounds.
The lake formed a thin layer of ice over the top of it and even the Giant Squid was having a bit of trouble swimming in its freezing water.
Harry and Ginny, after the first night of the school year, began to form a close friendship with Harry and had, more or less, been accepted into the trio of Ron, Harry and Hermione at last.
Harry thought of her as a comforting friend, a sister that he had never had. She was a warm shoulder to lean on.
The only thing that bothered him was when they got close, the hairs on the back on his neck would stand up for unknown reasons.
Ginny thought of him as a human being, as she always had, and not some larger-than-life action hero from some four-star movie.
She loved him for the thick headed, handsome, personality-filled boy he was. She loved him; he didn't love her back.
She was, in a sense, okay with that now. He didn't look at her as a little girl any longer; at least she hoped not.
Being friends with him was more than enough. In fact, just being close enough to watch him move was enough for her.
She cared for him so deeply it hurt. She would rather die in the hands of Voldemort than see him suffer a scratch.
It scared her that she had such feelings for Harry Potter. Hell, it scared her she had such feeling for anyone.
Ron continued to sniff at his hangings every night to see if maybe the girl had come back (of course, Hermione knew better), and Hermione hid her feeling with her homework, burying herself within her books.
At this moment, Ron sat in the common room early that morning, sleeping on the couch, a book on his chest.
Hermione saw him from the bottom of the stairs and smiled. She walked over to him and bent down on her knees.
"Ron," Hermione said, shaking him awake. Ron came to and his vision focused. "Ron, it's me."
"What?" Ron asked, dazed.
Hermione help up her wrist for him to sniff. Her heart beat out of her chest. She couldn't believe she was doing this.
Ron Weasly would know that she liked him.
He took a great sniff and looked at her.
"A-A-ACHOO!" sneezed Ron, wiping his nose with a handkerchief. Hermione sighed, wiping his mucus off her robes.
"Sorry, Hermione. Bit of a cold," said Ron stuffily.
"It's alright, Ron," said Hermione, frustrated. She finally found the courage to tell her love how she felt and what did he do?
He sneezed on her robes, that's what. Hermione didn't think she could bear it much longer. She needed him.
That was that.
* * *
"So are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend, Harry?" Hermione asked him at lunch that day.
"I guess so. It's gotten a bit old," said Harry.
"I'm going to go," said Ron. He was still a bit embarrassed from that morning. "I just hope it won't be to cold."
"I'll go, too. How about if we meet at the three broomsticks?" asked Ginny.
"I'm up for it. That's about my favorite place besides the candy shop," said Harry. The others agreed as well.
Ron began to take a sip of milk when none other than Draco Malfoy slithered snake-like behind him.
"Draco," muttered Harry.
"Hello, Potty. I expect you'll be trying out for Quidditch captain next month," he sneered.
"What's it to YOU?" Ron said venomously. Draco ignored him.
"We'll just see how big of a git you make of yourself, then," said Draco. He walked back over to the Slytherin table, snickering at his own joke.
"Bastard," Ron said.
"RON!" Hermione scolded.
"Well he is," Ginny said, looking over to the table beside them.
It seemed that way indeed. He could feel the cold stone underneath him and still ached horribly from the Crutacious Curse.
He didn't want to look at himself. He didn't want to see the face that he hadn't seen in years.
It was times like these he was quite glad that Voldemort didn't own a mirror. He comforted himself with the thoughts of his lost love.
Lars closed his eyes; he could see her face so clearly. She was so beautiful. He could see every one of her short, dirty blond hairs below her ears.
He could see her every facial line and that lacy dress she cherished so. He remembered seeing her smile at him through her window.
It was such an honor to be her next door neighbor. Her parents were so caring, so trustworthy and loving.
Why did she have to eave him? Why did she have to die? It was his undying love for Mary that caused his awful hatred to THAT boy- to Harry Potter.
* * *
The end of September came with a bang; that was for sure. Winds blew across the frozen grounds.
The lake formed a thin layer of ice over the top of it and even the Giant Squid was having a bit of trouble swimming in its freezing water.
Harry and Ginny, after the first night of the school year, began to form a close friendship with Harry and had, more or less, been accepted into the trio of Ron, Harry and Hermione at last.
Harry thought of her as a comforting friend, a sister that he had never had. She was a warm shoulder to lean on.
The only thing that bothered him was when they got close, the hairs on the back on his neck would stand up for unknown reasons.
Ginny thought of him as a human being, as she always had, and not some larger-than-life action hero from some four-star movie.
She loved him for the thick headed, handsome, personality-filled boy he was. She loved him; he didn't love her back.
She was, in a sense, okay with that now. He didn't look at her as a little girl any longer; at least she hoped not.
Being friends with him was more than enough. In fact, just being close enough to watch him move was enough for her.
She cared for him so deeply it hurt. She would rather die in the hands of Voldemort than see him suffer a scratch.
It scared her that she had such feelings for Harry Potter. Hell, it scared her she had such feeling for anyone.
Ron continued to sniff at his hangings every night to see if maybe the girl had come back (of course, Hermione knew better), and Hermione hid her feeling with her homework, burying herself within her books.
At this moment, Ron sat in the common room early that morning, sleeping on the couch, a book on his chest.
Hermione saw him from the bottom of the stairs and smiled. She walked over to him and bent down on her knees.
"Ron," Hermione said, shaking him awake. Ron came to and his vision focused. "Ron, it's me."
"What?" Ron asked, dazed.
Hermione help up her wrist for him to sniff. Her heart beat out of her chest. She couldn't believe she was doing this.
Ron Weasly would know that she liked him.
He took a great sniff and looked at her.
"A-A-ACHOO!" sneezed Ron, wiping his nose with a handkerchief. Hermione sighed, wiping his mucus off her robes.
"Sorry, Hermione. Bit of a cold," said Ron stuffily.
"It's alright, Ron," said Hermione, frustrated. She finally found the courage to tell her love how she felt and what did he do?
He sneezed on her robes, that's what. Hermione didn't think she could bear it much longer. She needed him.
That was that.
* * *
"So are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend, Harry?" Hermione asked him at lunch that day.
"I guess so. It's gotten a bit old," said Harry.
"I'm going to go," said Ron. He was still a bit embarrassed from that morning. "I just hope it won't be to cold."
"I'll go, too. How about if we meet at the three broomsticks?" asked Ginny.
"I'm up for it. That's about my favorite place besides the candy shop," said Harry. The others agreed as well.
Ron began to take a sip of milk when none other than Draco Malfoy slithered snake-like behind him.
"Draco," muttered Harry.
"Hello, Potty. I expect you'll be trying out for Quidditch captain next month," he sneered.
"What's it to YOU?" Ron said venomously. Draco ignored him.
"We'll just see how big of a git you make of yourself, then," said Draco. He walked back over to the Slytherin table, snickering at his own joke.
"Bastard," Ron said.
"RON!" Hermione scolded.
"Well he is," Ginny said, looking over to the table beside them.