Chapter Six: Er...chapter six
TRUTH POTIONS AND THEIR 700 VARIATIONS
Harry stared blankly at the book in front of him. The peice of parchment next to him read:
Truth
That was it.
To tell the truth (sorry, no pun intended) Harry's mind was elsewhere. On a certain redheaded Gryffindor. And no, I don't mean Ron.
He couldn't wipe that look of complete and utter desolation out of his memory. Couldn't banish that moment from his mind. Some days he wished he could take it all back, and some days he wouldn't trade that one fleeting memory for anything. It was all he was ever going to have of Ginny.
Because he just couldn't risk it.
He rolled over and pulled a peice of parchment from under his mattress, reading it for tenth time that day.
Dear Harry, Hope you're well, and Ron and Hermione and your sweetheart too. Sorry, kid. Just trying to lighten things up a bit.
(Harry snorted.)
Anyway. I wanted to let you know I'll be coming to Hogwarts. Probably sometime over Christmas break. I have some important new for you and Dumbledore and I have to give it to you in person. I'll give you your gift when I see you.
(If. Harry thought darkly. If you see me.)
In the meantime, happy christmas. Sirius
Harry folded the letter and flopped onto his back with a sigh. What on earth could Sirius have to tell them? He sighed again and decided to take another crack at his essay, for he hadn't been lying when he said he had to do it. He opened the book to a page at random, hoping it would inspire him, and read:
Muste Solution: Discovered in the early 1800s by well known wizard AJ Muste, is something like an airborne disease. The solution is dropped onto something, food, clothing, and when the victim catches a whiff, the desired secret has to be kept. Often used to torture witches and wizards known for gossiping...
Harry shook his head and ran his hand through his hair, unconciously trying to neaten it. He had given up that battle long ago on a concious level. His mind wandered back to the girl downstairs, and the ache in his chest intensified. Perhaps he could...
"Harry." Ron appeared at the door of the dormitory. "It's Ginny, come quick."
TRUTH POTIONS AND THEIR 700 VARIATIONS
Harry stared blankly at the book in front of him. The peice of parchment next to him read:
Truth
That was it.
To tell the truth (sorry, no pun intended) Harry's mind was elsewhere. On a certain redheaded Gryffindor. And no, I don't mean Ron.
He couldn't wipe that look of complete and utter desolation out of his memory. Couldn't banish that moment from his mind. Some days he wished he could take it all back, and some days he wouldn't trade that one fleeting memory for anything. It was all he was ever going to have of Ginny.
Because he just couldn't risk it.
He rolled over and pulled a peice of parchment from under his mattress, reading it for tenth time that day.
Dear Harry, Hope you're well, and Ron and Hermione and your sweetheart too. Sorry, kid. Just trying to lighten things up a bit.
(Harry snorted.)
Anyway. I wanted to let you know I'll be coming to Hogwarts. Probably sometime over Christmas break. I have some important new for you and Dumbledore and I have to give it to you in person. I'll give you your gift when I see you.
(If. Harry thought darkly. If you see me.)
In the meantime, happy christmas. Sirius
Harry folded the letter and flopped onto his back with a sigh. What on earth could Sirius have to tell them? He sighed again and decided to take another crack at his essay, for he hadn't been lying when he said he had to do it. He opened the book to a page at random, hoping it would inspire him, and read:
Muste Solution: Discovered in the early 1800s by well known wizard AJ Muste, is something like an airborne disease. The solution is dropped onto something, food, clothing, and when the victim catches a whiff, the desired secret has to be kept. Often used to torture witches and wizards known for gossiping...
Harry shook his head and ran his hand through his hair, unconciously trying to neaten it. He had given up that battle long ago on a concious level. His mind wandered back to the girl downstairs, and the ache in his chest intensified. Perhaps he could...
"Harry." Ron appeared at the door of the dormitory. "It's Ginny, come quick."