*** To Sbys: Thank you so much for your nice reviews! It meant so much,
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So THANKS A MILLION for your reviews, I appreciate it so much!
Disclaimer: Obviously, none of the mentioned character belongs to me, they are either copyright and/or registered trademarks of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros.
Harry didn't sleep well at all the next night. Rolling around in his bed in the room that used to be Dudley's second bedroom, nightmares were haunting him frequently.
He found himself tied to Tom Riddle's tombstone once again, fearfully watching Wormtail approach him with a dagger.
"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken. you will resurrect your foe."
The next thing he saw was Cedric's lifeless, gray eyes, staring at him.
"You know that you insisted on me taking the Triwizard Cup with you! If it wasn't for you, I would not be dead! I'd still be alive; I'd still be with my girlfriend even!"
Harry moaned in his sleep, tossing and turning from side to side.
The next thing he saw turned his soul into pure, frosty ice. He saw Sirius, dueling with this detested cousin of his, Bellatrix Lestrange. He witnessed, yet again, the jet of light hitting him right across the chest; saw his godfather fall in what seemed like a grotesque form of slow motion. Saw the expression of surprise, mingled with fear in the face of the man he had grown to care for so much.
"SIRIUS, NOO!!"
Harry jerked up, hitting his head on the bookshelf right above him, panting heavily. He was covered in sweat, his night clothes sticking to his body, a severe pain spreading across his head, starting at the spot where he crashed against the bookshelf. A dumb pain in his scar added to his miserable condition.
It wasn't by far extraordinary for him to have this kind of nightmares. In fact, they seemed to haunt him nearly every night. He even came to the point where he dreaded going to sleep at all because he knew what it was he had to live through, over and over again.
Deciding that it was no use to dwell on his misery, he got up and went to the bathroom, enjoying a long, relaxing shower. After drying up and putting on some clothes, he felt some energy creeping back into his body slowly.
He had to get a grip on himself! Today he was meeting with this beautiful girl that - in his eyes - resembled a Veela to a great extent. He felt a different kind of excitement rise up in his chest. Trying to find out if he was just severely nervous or if it was something else he was dreading, he went down into the kitchen and started to fix himself some breakfast. Imagining what it was that Grace had planned for the two of them - since she had said that she was going to pick him up, he assumed that she had something in mind on what they could do - he stirred his coffee with the spoon in his hand, completely lost in thoughts.
While letting his mind soar, he was distracted by the loud ringing tone of the telephone in the living room. He jumped up. Now who could this be? Maybe, he figured, it was Uncle Vernon, checking on him for the hundredth time if he hadn't, accidentally or on purpose, set the house on fire or crashed the car.
He picked up the phone and held it to his ear. "Hello?"
"Harry! It's me, Hermione!" Surprised, but not thoroughly pleased to hear her, he replied,
"Hi Hermione, what's going on? Any particular reason for you to call? You're at the Burrow with the Weasleys, right?" he was trying tremendously hard not to sound rude, but the creeping feeling of pain, that he came to associate with everything of the wizarding world, started to hit upon him again.
"Well I'm not at the Burrow right now exactly," Hermione giggled. "You know that they don't have a 'Phellitone'." Harry tried to force a laugh, noticing that it surely didn't sound very convincing. It was really sweet that the Weasleys were so completely helpless when it came to muggle gadgets, but in his current state he found it annoying. How could they be living so isolated in the magical world?
"I just wanted to check on you, see if you're doing alright," Hermione continued. "You haven't been writing to us in two weeks and I didn't know." she broke of, struggling to find the right words.
"I am doing fine," Harry said, emphasizing every word. "What makes you think I'm not? I'm a big boy, remember?" he declared, trying to sound as if he was joking, although totally not in the right mood.
"I know, I know, that's not it." Hermione confirmed. "It's just, you know I presume you are still."
"Don't worry," Harry cut her of hastily. That was exactly the reaction he was afraid of. It was exactly the reason for him to stay in Privet Drive and stay away from his friends. Every time they naturally had to bring up the subject of Sirius. And no matter how sensitive their remarks might be, it felt as if a dagger was being twisted around in a freshly inflicted wound.
"So how are you and Ron doing? Still fighting persistently?" Harry tried to anxiously find a change of the subject. And luckily he succeeded.
Hermione sighed intensely at the other end of the line and went on about how annoying Ron could be when he did this and said that, how he could never give it a rest and continued to pick on her, how he wouldn't start on his homework, even thought there were only four weeks of holidays left and everybody knows how tough the sixth year will be in Hogwarts, having the N.E.W.T.s coming up soon.
Harry felt like she continued chatting for at least six minutes, without him saying a single word. At one time he held the phone a few inches away from him and stared at it doubtfully. How much can a girl have to say about one single subject? And it's not like she was talking about the "Fierce Fairy Uprising" of 1666 that ultimately changed the way goblins traded with fairies, no she was talking about Ron and their trivial disagreements.
"Are you still there Harry?" He heard Hermione's far off - voice coming out of the receiver.
"Of course I am," he said, hastily putting the phone back to his ear.
"I am worried about you Harry", Hermione eventually said, changing the tone of her voice entirely. The rather bossy tone she usual adapted when talking to her two best friends, trying to make them do their homework or study for their upcoming potions exam, turned into a soft, caring quality, touching him more than he would have imagined.
"You don't have to be worried, Hermione", he assured her, trying to sound as convincing as possible.
"This is exactly what I need right now. The Durselys are gone and I can run around in the house by myself, do whatever I like. It's great. Nobody knows me around here, really. They leave me alone and I can get my thoughts in a row, trying to think about what happened. No offense, but I just couldn't." he suddenly found it harder to talk, "I just couldn't face all of it again. You know, for instance Mrs. Weasley being all upset and all. I just feel better here by myself."
He waited for a reply, but there was a thick silence all at once. He heard Hermione breathing on the other side of the line, but she didn't say a word. Finally she said, speaking very softly, "But we're your friends Harry! If we can't help you through this, no one can." And then, after what seemed like another eternity in silence, "Please let us come and pick you up Harry, I promise, we wont say anything about, you - know- what! Just let me," she paused for a split second, "let *us* be there for you!" Her voice changed again, now sounding heavy with un- cried tears.
Harry was entirely astounded at this. He could have coped with her being angry, even expected her to be mad at him. But this unfathomable sadness he detected in the tone of his best friend melted some of the ice that enclosed his soul.
Even though he could tell that she was fighting hard to restrain it, he heard that she was crying now.
"I think I know how you feel Harry! I mean, of course I don't know exactly but I try hard to imagine what you're going through. I miss him so tremendously myself."
Harry knew that Hermione and Ron liked his godfather nearly as much as he did. Now that he reflected on this, he had to admit that he didn't take that into consideration.
"But what pains me most is that you don't want to spend time with us anymore, Harry!" he heard Hermione sob delicately. "If it's anything I've done, then I am so sorry! I didn't mean to force you into telling me how you feel. I guess I failed as a friend. When I read your letters to us, saying that you won't come to spend the summer at the Burrow this year, I realized it was our fault. I'm so terribly sorry, Harry!"
Hearing Hermione shed tears about a decision he made, listening to her apologizing for something he wouldn't blame her for if she was the last person in the world, - it broke his heart.
"Hermione, that's not true! Please, don't cry, I'm sorry! It has nothing to do with you or Ron!" he tried to soothe her.
"I just feel like I'm losing you, Harry."
Harry could hardly hear her. Hermione was speaking so quietly now, he had to listen hard to catch everything she said. She sounded so unlike the bossy fifth-year prefect that intimidated some little first-years in their previous year at Hogwarts.
"I feel like you're drawing further away from me, with every day that we spend apart. I want to be there for you so much, but you just don't let me."
He had to make her understand! He had to have her recognizing his true motives. His reasons for why he acted like he did. Hearing the girl he cared more about than any other in the world, sobbing in pain that he inflicted, he couldn't stand it.
"Hermione, please stop crying! It really has nothing to do with you! I promise! It's me. I just can't come back right now." He knew that he had to tell her. Tell her everything. And so he did. He told her about his nightmares, his fears and the way he couldn't occupy his thoughts with anything that might be connected to Sirius in whatever way. After he ended, he waited for her to say something.
"I understand."
After what seemed to be like a time without end, she said these two simple little words that warmed him up from inside, broke part of the chain around his chest that threatened to gradually suffocate him. They warmed his insides as if he had swallowed a whole mug of butterbeer at once on a fiercely cold winter's day.
"Thank you", he managed to say, his voice full of gratitude for the smart, caring and compassionate witch he was talking to.
"Just don't stay away for too long. Or I'll be flying to your house on a broomstick in the middle of the day. And you know how I detest flying!"
"Alright Mione," Harry laughed, reassured.
After they hung up the phone, Harry sat down on the porch and reflected upon the phone talk he just had with his best friend. He hadn't told her about Grace, but he didn't know if that was important enough to let her know yet. He just felt tremendously happy that he made her understand. Her words and her compassion had stroked a part of his soul he had thought to be lost in terrible emptiness, imposed by the loss of Sirius.
--- Alright, that was the third chapter. Please review, if you want to let me know if you hated it or liked it a bit. I appreciate every criticism a lot! And thanks to you that already reviewed!
Disclaimer: Obviously, none of the mentioned character belongs to me, they are either copyright and/or registered trademarks of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros.
Harry didn't sleep well at all the next night. Rolling around in his bed in the room that used to be Dudley's second bedroom, nightmares were haunting him frequently.
He found himself tied to Tom Riddle's tombstone once again, fearfully watching Wormtail approach him with a dagger.
"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken. you will resurrect your foe."
The next thing he saw was Cedric's lifeless, gray eyes, staring at him.
"You know that you insisted on me taking the Triwizard Cup with you! If it wasn't for you, I would not be dead! I'd still be alive; I'd still be with my girlfriend even!"
Harry moaned in his sleep, tossing and turning from side to side.
The next thing he saw turned his soul into pure, frosty ice. He saw Sirius, dueling with this detested cousin of his, Bellatrix Lestrange. He witnessed, yet again, the jet of light hitting him right across the chest; saw his godfather fall in what seemed like a grotesque form of slow motion. Saw the expression of surprise, mingled with fear in the face of the man he had grown to care for so much.
"SIRIUS, NOO!!"
Harry jerked up, hitting his head on the bookshelf right above him, panting heavily. He was covered in sweat, his night clothes sticking to his body, a severe pain spreading across his head, starting at the spot where he crashed against the bookshelf. A dumb pain in his scar added to his miserable condition.
It wasn't by far extraordinary for him to have this kind of nightmares. In fact, they seemed to haunt him nearly every night. He even came to the point where he dreaded going to sleep at all because he knew what it was he had to live through, over and over again.
Deciding that it was no use to dwell on his misery, he got up and went to the bathroom, enjoying a long, relaxing shower. After drying up and putting on some clothes, he felt some energy creeping back into his body slowly.
He had to get a grip on himself! Today he was meeting with this beautiful girl that - in his eyes - resembled a Veela to a great extent. He felt a different kind of excitement rise up in his chest. Trying to find out if he was just severely nervous or if it was something else he was dreading, he went down into the kitchen and started to fix himself some breakfast. Imagining what it was that Grace had planned for the two of them - since she had said that she was going to pick him up, he assumed that she had something in mind on what they could do - he stirred his coffee with the spoon in his hand, completely lost in thoughts.
While letting his mind soar, he was distracted by the loud ringing tone of the telephone in the living room. He jumped up. Now who could this be? Maybe, he figured, it was Uncle Vernon, checking on him for the hundredth time if he hadn't, accidentally or on purpose, set the house on fire or crashed the car.
He picked up the phone and held it to his ear. "Hello?"
"Harry! It's me, Hermione!" Surprised, but not thoroughly pleased to hear her, he replied,
"Hi Hermione, what's going on? Any particular reason for you to call? You're at the Burrow with the Weasleys, right?" he was trying tremendously hard not to sound rude, but the creeping feeling of pain, that he came to associate with everything of the wizarding world, started to hit upon him again.
"Well I'm not at the Burrow right now exactly," Hermione giggled. "You know that they don't have a 'Phellitone'." Harry tried to force a laugh, noticing that it surely didn't sound very convincing. It was really sweet that the Weasleys were so completely helpless when it came to muggle gadgets, but in his current state he found it annoying. How could they be living so isolated in the magical world?
"I just wanted to check on you, see if you're doing alright," Hermione continued. "You haven't been writing to us in two weeks and I didn't know." she broke of, struggling to find the right words.
"I am doing fine," Harry said, emphasizing every word. "What makes you think I'm not? I'm a big boy, remember?" he declared, trying to sound as if he was joking, although totally not in the right mood.
"I know, I know, that's not it." Hermione confirmed. "It's just, you know I presume you are still."
"Don't worry," Harry cut her of hastily. That was exactly the reaction he was afraid of. It was exactly the reason for him to stay in Privet Drive and stay away from his friends. Every time they naturally had to bring up the subject of Sirius. And no matter how sensitive their remarks might be, it felt as if a dagger was being twisted around in a freshly inflicted wound.
"So how are you and Ron doing? Still fighting persistently?" Harry tried to anxiously find a change of the subject. And luckily he succeeded.
Hermione sighed intensely at the other end of the line and went on about how annoying Ron could be when he did this and said that, how he could never give it a rest and continued to pick on her, how he wouldn't start on his homework, even thought there were only four weeks of holidays left and everybody knows how tough the sixth year will be in Hogwarts, having the N.E.W.T.s coming up soon.
Harry felt like she continued chatting for at least six minutes, without him saying a single word. At one time he held the phone a few inches away from him and stared at it doubtfully. How much can a girl have to say about one single subject? And it's not like she was talking about the "Fierce Fairy Uprising" of 1666 that ultimately changed the way goblins traded with fairies, no she was talking about Ron and their trivial disagreements.
"Are you still there Harry?" He heard Hermione's far off - voice coming out of the receiver.
"Of course I am," he said, hastily putting the phone back to his ear.
"I am worried about you Harry", Hermione eventually said, changing the tone of her voice entirely. The rather bossy tone she usual adapted when talking to her two best friends, trying to make them do their homework or study for their upcoming potions exam, turned into a soft, caring quality, touching him more than he would have imagined.
"You don't have to be worried, Hermione", he assured her, trying to sound as convincing as possible.
"This is exactly what I need right now. The Durselys are gone and I can run around in the house by myself, do whatever I like. It's great. Nobody knows me around here, really. They leave me alone and I can get my thoughts in a row, trying to think about what happened. No offense, but I just couldn't." he suddenly found it harder to talk, "I just couldn't face all of it again. You know, for instance Mrs. Weasley being all upset and all. I just feel better here by myself."
He waited for a reply, but there was a thick silence all at once. He heard Hermione breathing on the other side of the line, but she didn't say a word. Finally she said, speaking very softly, "But we're your friends Harry! If we can't help you through this, no one can." And then, after what seemed like another eternity in silence, "Please let us come and pick you up Harry, I promise, we wont say anything about, you - know- what! Just let me," she paused for a split second, "let *us* be there for you!" Her voice changed again, now sounding heavy with un- cried tears.
Harry was entirely astounded at this. He could have coped with her being angry, even expected her to be mad at him. But this unfathomable sadness he detected in the tone of his best friend melted some of the ice that enclosed his soul.
Even though he could tell that she was fighting hard to restrain it, he heard that she was crying now.
"I think I know how you feel Harry! I mean, of course I don't know exactly but I try hard to imagine what you're going through. I miss him so tremendously myself."
Harry knew that Hermione and Ron liked his godfather nearly as much as he did. Now that he reflected on this, he had to admit that he didn't take that into consideration.
"But what pains me most is that you don't want to spend time with us anymore, Harry!" he heard Hermione sob delicately. "If it's anything I've done, then I am so sorry! I didn't mean to force you into telling me how you feel. I guess I failed as a friend. When I read your letters to us, saying that you won't come to spend the summer at the Burrow this year, I realized it was our fault. I'm so terribly sorry, Harry!"
Hearing Hermione shed tears about a decision he made, listening to her apologizing for something he wouldn't blame her for if she was the last person in the world, - it broke his heart.
"Hermione, that's not true! Please, don't cry, I'm sorry! It has nothing to do with you or Ron!" he tried to soothe her.
"I just feel like I'm losing you, Harry."
Harry could hardly hear her. Hermione was speaking so quietly now, he had to listen hard to catch everything she said. She sounded so unlike the bossy fifth-year prefect that intimidated some little first-years in their previous year at Hogwarts.
"I feel like you're drawing further away from me, with every day that we spend apart. I want to be there for you so much, but you just don't let me."
He had to make her understand! He had to have her recognizing his true motives. His reasons for why he acted like he did. Hearing the girl he cared more about than any other in the world, sobbing in pain that he inflicted, he couldn't stand it.
"Hermione, please stop crying! It really has nothing to do with you! I promise! It's me. I just can't come back right now." He knew that he had to tell her. Tell her everything. And so he did. He told her about his nightmares, his fears and the way he couldn't occupy his thoughts with anything that might be connected to Sirius in whatever way. After he ended, he waited for her to say something.
"I understand."
After what seemed to be like a time without end, she said these two simple little words that warmed him up from inside, broke part of the chain around his chest that threatened to gradually suffocate him. They warmed his insides as if he had swallowed a whole mug of butterbeer at once on a fiercely cold winter's day.
"Thank you", he managed to say, his voice full of gratitude for the smart, caring and compassionate witch he was talking to.
"Just don't stay away for too long. Or I'll be flying to your house on a broomstick in the middle of the day. And you know how I detest flying!"
"Alright Mione," Harry laughed, reassured.
After they hung up the phone, Harry sat down on the porch and reflected upon the phone talk he just had with his best friend. He hadn't told her about Grace, but he didn't know if that was important enough to let her know yet. He just felt tremendously happy that he made her understand. Her words and her compassion had stroked a part of his soul he had thought to be lost in terrible emptiness, imposed by the loss of Sirius.
--- Alright, that was the third chapter. Please review, if you want to let me know if you hated it or liked it a bit. I appreciate every criticism a lot! And thanks to you that already reviewed!