Harry flushed, and walked out of the toilet stall, washing his hands in one of the elaborate old faucets. He was distracted, as usual, with the foamy soap, that seemed to come in infinate supply from the small stone container. He gave himself a handsome beard, and little devil horns sticking out from his unruly hair, and was halfway through a bushy unibrow when a glance at the bathroom clock brought him back to his senses, and he quickly cleaned up his mess. He frantically wiped his ink black hair with a paper towel, finally giving in and leaving it slightly wet and soapy, and grabbed his stuff, hoping he wasn't late to class.
He grabbed the door handle and pulled, knowing Snape would take points off Gryffindor if he was late. While Malfoy regularly pranced in five minutes past the bell, Proffessor Snape was merciless when in came to punishing Harry. The memory of several days worth of cleaning cauldrens after class came back to him, and he knew that on top of that all the Gryffindors would hate him for putting them behind Ravenclaw. The door didn't budge. He jiggled the handle, and tried pushing on it. Harry started to panic. He must be doing something wrong; this door didn't even have a lock on it. He tried everything he could to get the door open, but no spell or any amount of brute force could move the door. By now he was quite late, and past worrying about what punishment Snape would hand out. At this rate he would probably be late for his next class. Maybe he would have to live in here for the rest of his life. Harry looked around sadly, and wished he hadn't chosen such a dingy bathroom to use. The prospect of sleeping on these floors made him sick to his stomach; oh well, he knew that at least he would always have a place to retch.
Bored, he sat down crosslegged on the floor, which looked like it had not been cleaned for centuries, and finished some of his homework that he had been intending to do at lunch. Every five minutes he went back to the door and tried to open it, but nothing changed, not that he'd really expected anything to. There was no window in the second-story bathroom, but Harry could tell it would be getting dark outside by now; the clock read 7:00. His stomach groaned hungrilly, and he was really starting to worry when he heard a noise on the other side of the door. It could have been footsteps, but whatever it was, it was his only chance.
"Hello! I'm in here! Can somebody help?" he said loudly, scrambling to the door. There was no response. He listened for several minutes, but there was nothing but silence. However, when he tried the door, after finally deciding that whatever was there before now was not, it opened quite smoothly, like it had just been installed that day. He burst from the room and ran down the hall, making straight for the Gryffindor common room. The halls were not crowded, but the few stragglers who he met acted strangely towards him. A group of first year girls stared at him as he passed, then turned and gasped, giggling nervously in a Freak-show Spectator fashion. Other witches and wizards, who normally would have smiled at him politely refused to make eye contact, and looked confused about how they should react to seeing him. Seamus Finnigan's reaction was the most perplexing of all. He looked shy and embarrassed, but full of some sort of relief and excitement at the same time as he walked right up to Harry, put his arm awkwardly around Harry's shoulder, and whispered in his ear: "Me too."
Harry reached the portrait of the fat lady in a state of utter confusion, and Hermione and Ron, who were in the common room, appearantly waiting for him, acted oddly as well. Ron was unusually red in the face, and he turned away when he saw Harry.
"Hey, mate," he muttered, not looking Harry in the eye.
Hermione bit her lip. "Harry that was... that was unusual what you did this afternoon, but very brave." Harry wondered what she meant by that. Skipping potions? Since when did Hermione Granger ever compliment anyone for cutting class? But though it was out of her character, Harry wasn't that surprised. She had been acting abnormally since school started, strangely secretive around Harry.
"What are you talking about?" Harry spat, his vibrant green eyes narrowed like a snake's. Emotions welled up inside. He hated how no one ever thought it was important to fill him in on the details. What was wrong with everyone today? Appearantly a lot had happened while he was stuck in the bathroom. Hermione's--and everyone's--strange behavior was sawing on his nerves. "How can--" A thought struck him. "Do you... do you have a crush on me Hermione?"
"Of course not," she said, with a look on her face better suited to her character; one that said she was telling such an obvious truth that she was unsure of Harry's sanity for even questioning it.
"You don't have to say it in that tone," Harry grumbled, both relieved and dissapointed. 'I've got Cho,' he reminded himself. Cho and Harry had been dating for the past few months, but the relationship was light; no snogging since that first kiss. He knew it would never work out with Hermione, and he had never even had any feelings for her, but it still hurt to hear her state so blatantly that she had no interest in him whatsoever.
Hermione seemed put off. "But Harry, why on earth would I have a crush on you? We--we're really worried about you, and that's the whole point. You told everyone--I mean, it's hard to believe--but--"
Ron looked up. "You're gay."
He grabbed the door handle and pulled, knowing Snape would take points off Gryffindor if he was late. While Malfoy regularly pranced in five minutes past the bell, Proffessor Snape was merciless when in came to punishing Harry. The memory of several days worth of cleaning cauldrens after class came back to him, and he knew that on top of that all the Gryffindors would hate him for putting them behind Ravenclaw. The door didn't budge. He jiggled the handle, and tried pushing on it. Harry started to panic. He must be doing something wrong; this door didn't even have a lock on it. He tried everything he could to get the door open, but no spell or any amount of brute force could move the door. By now he was quite late, and past worrying about what punishment Snape would hand out. At this rate he would probably be late for his next class. Maybe he would have to live in here for the rest of his life. Harry looked around sadly, and wished he hadn't chosen such a dingy bathroom to use. The prospect of sleeping on these floors made him sick to his stomach; oh well, he knew that at least he would always have a place to retch.
Bored, he sat down crosslegged on the floor, which looked like it had not been cleaned for centuries, and finished some of his homework that he had been intending to do at lunch. Every five minutes he went back to the door and tried to open it, but nothing changed, not that he'd really expected anything to. There was no window in the second-story bathroom, but Harry could tell it would be getting dark outside by now; the clock read 7:00. His stomach groaned hungrilly, and he was really starting to worry when he heard a noise on the other side of the door. It could have been footsteps, but whatever it was, it was his only chance.
"Hello! I'm in here! Can somebody help?" he said loudly, scrambling to the door. There was no response. He listened for several minutes, but there was nothing but silence. However, when he tried the door, after finally deciding that whatever was there before now was not, it opened quite smoothly, like it had just been installed that day. He burst from the room and ran down the hall, making straight for the Gryffindor common room. The halls were not crowded, but the few stragglers who he met acted strangely towards him. A group of first year girls stared at him as he passed, then turned and gasped, giggling nervously in a Freak-show Spectator fashion. Other witches and wizards, who normally would have smiled at him politely refused to make eye contact, and looked confused about how they should react to seeing him. Seamus Finnigan's reaction was the most perplexing of all. He looked shy and embarrassed, but full of some sort of relief and excitement at the same time as he walked right up to Harry, put his arm awkwardly around Harry's shoulder, and whispered in his ear: "Me too."
Harry reached the portrait of the fat lady in a state of utter confusion, and Hermione and Ron, who were in the common room, appearantly waiting for him, acted oddly as well. Ron was unusually red in the face, and he turned away when he saw Harry.
"Hey, mate," he muttered, not looking Harry in the eye.
Hermione bit her lip. "Harry that was... that was unusual what you did this afternoon, but very brave." Harry wondered what she meant by that. Skipping potions? Since when did Hermione Granger ever compliment anyone for cutting class? But though it was out of her character, Harry wasn't that surprised. She had been acting abnormally since school started, strangely secretive around Harry.
"What are you talking about?" Harry spat, his vibrant green eyes narrowed like a snake's. Emotions welled up inside. He hated how no one ever thought it was important to fill him in on the details. What was wrong with everyone today? Appearantly a lot had happened while he was stuck in the bathroom. Hermione's--and everyone's--strange behavior was sawing on his nerves. "How can--" A thought struck him. "Do you... do you have a crush on me Hermione?"
"Of course not," she said, with a look on her face better suited to her character; one that said she was telling such an obvious truth that she was unsure of Harry's sanity for even questioning it.
"You don't have to say it in that tone," Harry grumbled, both relieved and dissapointed. 'I've got Cho,' he reminded himself. Cho and Harry had been dating for the past few months, but the relationship was light; no snogging since that first kiss. He knew it would never work out with Hermione, and he had never even had any feelings for her, but it still hurt to hear her state so blatantly that she had no interest in him whatsoever.
Hermione seemed put off. "But Harry, why on earth would I have a crush on you? We--we're really worried about you, and that's the whole point. You told everyone--I mean, it's hard to believe--but--"
Ron looked up. "You're gay."