Xenith
Chapter Forty-seven
Harry was waiting in the Headmaster's office when Professor Dumbledore walked in.
"I won't go back," Harry said from the table he was perched on in a back corner of the shadow filled office. "You can't make me."
"I had thoughgt that I would be seeing you soon, Harry," Dumblledore said, seating himself quietly behind his desk. "And I know. You may stay here if you wish."
"What? How come this option was never offeed to me before?" Harry demanded quietly, fury dripping from his voice.
"Before, Privet Drive was the safest place for you, it no longer is."
"So, I'm homeless then? I want to stay here."
"All right, severl students do spend their summer's here," Dumbledore said, folding his long fingers in his lap. "In fact, Mister Higgs has spent every summer here since his parents died."
"When was that?" Harry asked, he was furious with himself for not knowing students were able to spend their summers at Hogwarts.
"His parents were killed when he was nine, he spent two years training under the supporters of Voldemort before he came to me for his first year. But I suppose he shall tell you all of that at another time."
"Where shall I stay?" Harry asked.
"We have apartments, in the staff wing, where some of our students without homes or parents stay. They are set up so there are two bedrooms, with two students a piece, with a small common room in the middle. The flat also contains a kitchen and two toilets. You shall bunk with mister Higgs."
Harry nodded, sliding off of the table and out of the shadows. He appeared completely exhausted. Dark shadows lurked beneath his ever-sad eyes, his skin, unnaturally incandescent. But as Dumbledore watched him retreat from his office, the boy stood strong, shoulders broad, stride confident, head held high, much like his father had done after receiving the news that his family was being targeted. Harry James Potter was a completely different person from the fourteen year-old who had entered his school at the beginning of the year.
He'd do fine.
Even without him. Harry'd survive.
---
"Why aren't you packed yet?" Hermione asked tentatively from the doorway of the fifth year boys dormitory.
Harry shrugged, not looking up from the book he had open, and wasn't reading in his lap.
"Look at me, Harry," Hermione continued softly. He complied. Harry felt his heart soften as his eyes fell on her. She was beautiful. Soft coffee coloured curls falling more that half-way down her back with large sad eyes almost as dark as her school robes. She seemed small and vulnerable standing alone in the doorway. //God, Ron should be here.// Harry thought desolately. //She needs him.// "Why aren't you packed?" She asked again.
"I'm not going to the Dursley's this summer. I've just sent them an owl about it," he replied.
"You're staying here then?" She took a step into the room, moving carefully around the already packed trunks in then middle of the room.
"Yes." Why were they speaking to one another like they never went before? //Why is this so uncomfortable?//
Hermione nodded, stopping at the end of his bed. "I'll write you," she ventured. //Harry, say something.// Hermione inwardly begged.
"Okay," Harry threw the book into his trunk. Hermione jumped, tear ran down her cheek. "Hermione, what's wrong?" Harry asked moving to her.
She shook her head, wiping the tears away.
"Hermione," Harry touched her chin, tipping her face up to his. Her eyes locked with his.
"Tell me he's not gone," Hermione said softly. "Tell me he'll come back."
"Harry didn't know what to say, he needed someone to tell him that just as badly as she did.
Harry pulled Hermione into his arms, holding her as close as he possibly could while she wept. His eyes stayed dry, however. He was done crying. It was time for him to grow up. To be a man.
It was time to fight.
--
¸..· ´¨¨)) -:¦:-
¸.·´ ·´¨¨))
((¸¸.·´ ..·´ -:¦:- tbc -:¦:-
-:¦:- ((¸¸.·´*
Chapter Forty-seven
Harry was waiting in the Headmaster's office when Professor Dumbledore walked in.
"I won't go back," Harry said from the table he was perched on in a back corner of the shadow filled office. "You can't make me."
"I had thoughgt that I would be seeing you soon, Harry," Dumblledore said, seating himself quietly behind his desk. "And I know. You may stay here if you wish."
"What? How come this option was never offeed to me before?" Harry demanded quietly, fury dripping from his voice.
"Before, Privet Drive was the safest place for you, it no longer is."
"So, I'm homeless then? I want to stay here."
"All right, severl students do spend their summer's here," Dumbledore said, folding his long fingers in his lap. "In fact, Mister Higgs has spent every summer here since his parents died."
"When was that?" Harry asked, he was furious with himself for not knowing students were able to spend their summers at Hogwarts.
"His parents were killed when he was nine, he spent two years training under the supporters of Voldemort before he came to me for his first year. But I suppose he shall tell you all of that at another time."
"Where shall I stay?" Harry asked.
"We have apartments, in the staff wing, where some of our students without homes or parents stay. They are set up so there are two bedrooms, with two students a piece, with a small common room in the middle. The flat also contains a kitchen and two toilets. You shall bunk with mister Higgs."
Harry nodded, sliding off of the table and out of the shadows. He appeared completely exhausted. Dark shadows lurked beneath his ever-sad eyes, his skin, unnaturally incandescent. But as Dumbledore watched him retreat from his office, the boy stood strong, shoulders broad, stride confident, head held high, much like his father had done after receiving the news that his family was being targeted. Harry James Potter was a completely different person from the fourteen year-old who had entered his school at the beginning of the year.
He'd do fine.
Even without him. Harry'd survive.
---
"Why aren't you packed yet?" Hermione asked tentatively from the doorway of the fifth year boys dormitory.
Harry shrugged, not looking up from the book he had open, and wasn't reading in his lap.
"Look at me, Harry," Hermione continued softly. He complied. Harry felt his heart soften as his eyes fell on her. She was beautiful. Soft coffee coloured curls falling more that half-way down her back with large sad eyes almost as dark as her school robes. She seemed small and vulnerable standing alone in the doorway. //God, Ron should be here.// Harry thought desolately. //She needs him.// "Why aren't you packed?" She asked again.
"I'm not going to the Dursley's this summer. I've just sent them an owl about it," he replied.
"You're staying here then?" She took a step into the room, moving carefully around the already packed trunks in then middle of the room.
"Yes." Why were they speaking to one another like they never went before? //Why is this so uncomfortable?//
Hermione nodded, stopping at the end of his bed. "I'll write you," she ventured. //Harry, say something.// Hermione inwardly begged.
"Okay," Harry threw the book into his trunk. Hermione jumped, tear ran down her cheek. "Hermione, what's wrong?" Harry asked moving to her.
She shook her head, wiping the tears away.
"Hermione," Harry touched her chin, tipping her face up to his. Her eyes locked with his.
"Tell me he's not gone," Hermione said softly. "Tell me he'll come back."
"Harry didn't know what to say, he needed someone to tell him that just as badly as she did.
Harry pulled Hermione into his arms, holding her as close as he possibly could while she wept. His eyes stayed dry, however. He was done crying. It was time for him to grow up. To be a man.
It was time to fight.
--
¸..· ´¨¨)) -:¦:-
¸.·´ ·´¨¨))
((¸¸.·´ ..·´ -:¦:- tbc -:¦:-
-:¦:- ((¸¸.·´*