Harry had spent the better part of his afternoon sitting in a dim corner of
the Gryffindor common room. He stared blankly past his Magical History
book for an hour or so, then put it away so he could concentrate on looking
directly at the Care of Magical Creatures assignment without actually
seeing it. To the casual observer in the room, it looked as though he were
diligently working on his homework. To the ever watchful eyes of his close
friend Hermione, it was obvious that he was in a completely different
world, and by the look of despair in his green eyes, it didn't look like a
very happy world at that.
Hermione got up and slowly walked up to the quiet table, glad for once that most of her housemates weren't big on homework. They were mostly running around in various parts of the castle looking for trouble, which would give her a little more privacy to talk to Harry. She had a feeling this talk was going to warrant some privacy. No one could look that upset about things that were okay to talk about in public. Harry didn't even blink as Hermione slid into a chair next to him. He did, however, jump about two and a half feet when she gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Geeaarrdfi, don't do that, are you trying to kill me or something?"
"Yes, Harry, I've been your friend for six years and helped you through a million conflicts just so that I could slowly kill you by touching your shoulder when you least expect it."
Harry looked at her in confusion. She sounded so serious. The sarcasm was there, but just barely. He pondered a moment, then finally decided that she was indeed joking. "I just meant, you startled me."
"I've gathered as much, but it's always a bit startling when you're suddenly and unexpectedly brought back to earth from . well from wherever you were."
"I've been right here, I'm doing my homework. I thought you'd've been glad of that."
"I would have, if you actually had been. Harry, I'm not stupid."
Harry wondered why she would even bother with such a statement. As Head Girl, Hermione was as far from stupid as one could get. She knew she was highly intelligent and very crafty. Harry knew that she was also rather modest. She still maintained what she'd said to him in their first year, that her skills were all books and cleverness. She still referred to him as a great wizard. Even after.but he wouldn't let himself think about that again. Not now. He looked up at her, his emerald eyes cloudy with thoughts he wouldn't finish.
"Harry, you've got to talk about it sometime."
"Why?"
"Well, because it's just, you just need to. You shouldn't keep such things bottled up inside of you. It's not good for you. You're wearing down, you hardly eat, you look like you haven't slept in months and you've always got such a pained expression in your eyes. I worry about you Harry. Ron's worried about you, too. Even the teachers are concerned. We've all noticed that you're.well you're just not acting yourself since the beginning of term. Did something happen at the Dursley's?" Hermione took a deep breath, having sped up her speech to get it all out before she lost her nerve. She and Ron had been speculating that something more horrid than usual must have happened over the summer while Harry was with his Aunt and Uncle. They'd tried to approach Harry a couple of times, but never asked directly because they were concerned that it might be SO bad that it would be worse to ask than to wait until he felt like talking. She only asked tonight because it was becoming obvious after two months that Harry was never going to just 'feel' like talking.
Harry felt a small tug at the left corner of his mouth. He recognized it as the beginnings of a smile. He couldn't remember Hermione being nervous just talking since she finally took the initiative to tell Ron how she felt about him. That thought took the possibility of smiling far from Harry's mind. Early sixth year - before the usual tragedies, during one of those moments when they had all thought life could be good, Ron and Hermione giggling and blushing with their newfound romance, it was enough to drive anyone mad. Harry didn't realize he was so close to tears until he felt them splashing on his arm.
Hermione sat in silent shock. She'd seen Harry cry before. He'd cried in relief when Ginny was finally safe at the end of second year. He'd cried in sorrow when Cedric was killed in their fourth year. He'd cried in frustration when it looked like Ron wouldn't make it to the end of their fifth year. What shocked her is that she'd never seen him cry like a statue. After a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth, no other muscles had moved. The anguish turned his eyes into identical swirling green tornadoes, the tears followed their silent paths down his cheeks, but there was no sound, no sobbing, nothing.
"Harry?" She asked gently. "Would you like to go outside and talk about this?"
Harry snapped out of his daze (barely realizing that he'd been dazing a lot the last few weeks) and looked at Hermione as though she had a hippogriff on her head. "No." He got up and headed directly to the portrait hole, not looking back once. Hermione didn't know what to do. She felt that Harry obviously wanted to be alone, but her stronger urges told her to follow him anyway. Not being one to question those strong urges of hers, she got up and promptly followed Harry through the portrait hole, trailing behind him all the way to his favorite hiding spot behind the castle.
She stood in the shadows, watching, wondering, what could possibly have upset Harry so much that he would withdraw into this self-inflicted torture? Harry sat silently, tears still streaming down his face and waiting, wondering when Hermione would get tired of standing in the shadows.
After at least a quarter of an hour had past, he finally opened his mouth and spoke. "You may as well come over and sit down, since you refuse to go back into the castle."
Hermione gasped, then collected herself and stepped out of her hiding place and walked over to join Harry on the ground. "How did you know I was there? I know you couldn't have seen me from here."
"I didn't need to."
"What do you mean? Harry, please, for Merlin's sake, talk to me?"
"Not that it's of any importance, but.well, something did happen over the summer. Something a little strange." He trailed off, knowing this wasn't the news Hermione wanted him to share, but hoping that revealing this secret would at least quench her curiosity for a while. "I, er, that is, I can see things."
"Like?" Hermione knew there was more to it, she just couldn't put her finger on it.
"Like things around me. Like dreams when I'm awake. I know things that ordinary senses wouldn't tell me."
"Harry!" she cried as dawning fell over her. "You're a seer?"
"I suppose. But only randomly and never anything important. I'd better get going though. I have that detention with Snape." Harry sincerely hoped his friend wasn't going to make a big deal out of it. He had the distinct feeling that if Dumbledore were to find out about this, he would want Harry to train this new sense in case it could be useful in the ongoing war against Voldemort. Harry couldn't see where anything about it would be useful. If he were to see an event, well, he probably wouldn't be able to prevent it and then it would be worse than if he hadn't known. He didn't want to think about any more loss, any more of the people he loved getting hurt. He knew he couldn't stand it if something bad happened to one of his friends and he'd known in advance. If only his were the side with the power and protection. If only.
Hermione got up and slowly walked up to the quiet table, glad for once that most of her housemates weren't big on homework. They were mostly running around in various parts of the castle looking for trouble, which would give her a little more privacy to talk to Harry. She had a feeling this talk was going to warrant some privacy. No one could look that upset about things that were okay to talk about in public. Harry didn't even blink as Hermione slid into a chair next to him. He did, however, jump about two and a half feet when she gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Geeaarrdfi, don't do that, are you trying to kill me or something?"
"Yes, Harry, I've been your friend for six years and helped you through a million conflicts just so that I could slowly kill you by touching your shoulder when you least expect it."
Harry looked at her in confusion. She sounded so serious. The sarcasm was there, but just barely. He pondered a moment, then finally decided that she was indeed joking. "I just meant, you startled me."
"I've gathered as much, but it's always a bit startling when you're suddenly and unexpectedly brought back to earth from . well from wherever you were."
"I've been right here, I'm doing my homework. I thought you'd've been glad of that."
"I would have, if you actually had been. Harry, I'm not stupid."
Harry wondered why she would even bother with such a statement. As Head Girl, Hermione was as far from stupid as one could get. She knew she was highly intelligent and very crafty. Harry knew that she was also rather modest. She still maintained what she'd said to him in their first year, that her skills were all books and cleverness. She still referred to him as a great wizard. Even after.but he wouldn't let himself think about that again. Not now. He looked up at her, his emerald eyes cloudy with thoughts he wouldn't finish.
"Harry, you've got to talk about it sometime."
"Why?"
"Well, because it's just, you just need to. You shouldn't keep such things bottled up inside of you. It's not good for you. You're wearing down, you hardly eat, you look like you haven't slept in months and you've always got such a pained expression in your eyes. I worry about you Harry. Ron's worried about you, too. Even the teachers are concerned. We've all noticed that you're.well you're just not acting yourself since the beginning of term. Did something happen at the Dursley's?" Hermione took a deep breath, having sped up her speech to get it all out before she lost her nerve. She and Ron had been speculating that something more horrid than usual must have happened over the summer while Harry was with his Aunt and Uncle. They'd tried to approach Harry a couple of times, but never asked directly because they were concerned that it might be SO bad that it would be worse to ask than to wait until he felt like talking. She only asked tonight because it was becoming obvious after two months that Harry was never going to just 'feel' like talking.
Harry felt a small tug at the left corner of his mouth. He recognized it as the beginnings of a smile. He couldn't remember Hermione being nervous just talking since she finally took the initiative to tell Ron how she felt about him. That thought took the possibility of smiling far from Harry's mind. Early sixth year - before the usual tragedies, during one of those moments when they had all thought life could be good, Ron and Hermione giggling and blushing with their newfound romance, it was enough to drive anyone mad. Harry didn't realize he was so close to tears until he felt them splashing on his arm.
Hermione sat in silent shock. She'd seen Harry cry before. He'd cried in relief when Ginny was finally safe at the end of second year. He'd cried in sorrow when Cedric was killed in their fourth year. He'd cried in frustration when it looked like Ron wouldn't make it to the end of their fifth year. What shocked her is that she'd never seen him cry like a statue. After a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth, no other muscles had moved. The anguish turned his eyes into identical swirling green tornadoes, the tears followed their silent paths down his cheeks, but there was no sound, no sobbing, nothing.
"Harry?" She asked gently. "Would you like to go outside and talk about this?"
Harry snapped out of his daze (barely realizing that he'd been dazing a lot the last few weeks) and looked at Hermione as though she had a hippogriff on her head. "No." He got up and headed directly to the portrait hole, not looking back once. Hermione didn't know what to do. She felt that Harry obviously wanted to be alone, but her stronger urges told her to follow him anyway. Not being one to question those strong urges of hers, she got up and promptly followed Harry through the portrait hole, trailing behind him all the way to his favorite hiding spot behind the castle.
She stood in the shadows, watching, wondering, what could possibly have upset Harry so much that he would withdraw into this self-inflicted torture? Harry sat silently, tears still streaming down his face and waiting, wondering when Hermione would get tired of standing in the shadows.
After at least a quarter of an hour had past, he finally opened his mouth and spoke. "You may as well come over and sit down, since you refuse to go back into the castle."
Hermione gasped, then collected herself and stepped out of her hiding place and walked over to join Harry on the ground. "How did you know I was there? I know you couldn't have seen me from here."
"I didn't need to."
"What do you mean? Harry, please, for Merlin's sake, talk to me?"
"Not that it's of any importance, but.well, something did happen over the summer. Something a little strange." He trailed off, knowing this wasn't the news Hermione wanted him to share, but hoping that revealing this secret would at least quench her curiosity for a while. "I, er, that is, I can see things."
"Like?" Hermione knew there was more to it, she just couldn't put her finger on it.
"Like things around me. Like dreams when I'm awake. I know things that ordinary senses wouldn't tell me."
"Harry!" she cried as dawning fell over her. "You're a seer?"
"I suppose. But only randomly and never anything important. I'd better get going though. I have that detention with Snape." Harry sincerely hoped his friend wasn't going to make a big deal out of it. He had the distinct feeling that if Dumbledore were to find out about this, he would want Harry to train this new sense in case it could be useful in the ongoing war against Voldemort. Harry couldn't see where anything about it would be useful. If he were to see an event, well, he probably wouldn't be able to prevent it and then it would be worse than if he hadn't known. He didn't want to think about any more loss, any more of the people he loved getting hurt. He knew he couldn't stand it if something bad happened to one of his friends and he'd known in advance. If only his were the side with the power and protection. If only.