It had been two years, six months, and four days since Cedric Diggory
had been murdered right before Harry's eyes. It had been one year, seven
months, seventeen days since Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, had been
killed in a battle to save Harry. It had been one year, three months, and
six days since the last time Harry had talked to Ron, his best friend since
year one at Hogwarts. It had been five months and fourteen days since two
of Harry's classmates at Hogwarts had died in a mysterious 'accident.' This
was the explanation the Ministry of Magic had issued; however, rumors of
what happened were spread like wildfire. Everyone believed Lord Voldemort
had killed these two boys. Everyone believed that Lord Voldemort killed
them in order to scare a certain boy. Everyone believed that Harry Potter
was to blame for these student's deaths. At least, that is what Harry
thought everybody thought of him.
Harry was now in the summer of his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had actually convinced his evil relatives to let him stay with the family of one third of his group of friends and girlfriend, Hermione Granger. It was this that had angered Ron into a silence between the two friends. When he learned that Harry, his best friend, had asked out his other best friend, Hermione, he was infuriated. Harry and Hermione did not what made him so angry, and they had never learned. Ron would not speak to Harry, and when he was in contact with Hermione, they never spoke of him.
It was this that pushed him over the edge. The death of his friends and his godfather, the constant fear of his life being taken by Lord Voldemort, and now not having Ron to help console him was too much to bear. Depression crawled over him by the middle of year six. By the end, he had gotten involved with self-mutilation and drug abuse. When he arrived at the Dursley's home in June, he nearly took his own life twice. It was the thoughts of Hermione and even Ron that kept him from committing suicide. When he brought up the idea of visiting Hermione to Uncle Vernon and got a positive answer, Harry was dumbfounded, but ecstatic. For the first time in nearly five months, Harry did not want to die.
Hermione woke to the sound of cries one night after Harry arrived at her house. She walked to his door to find him in the corner, shaking, hugging his knees to his chest, sobbing. She rushed over and tried to comfort him, but couldn't find any words. She never suspected that Harry Potter would ever feel like this. Not HER Harry. He couldn't. He had been through so much, but he had never cried so hard, at least around people. She kneeled down, tears filling her own eyes, and put her arms around Harry. He immediately wrapped his arms around her and sobbed onto her shoulder. She stayed there all night, cradling Harry in her arms. Even after he fell asleep, she stayed, scared to death.
When Harry awoke to find himself on the floor with Hermione, he was a little confused. He did not remember the last night at all. He rubbed his eyes and felt that they were damp. Memories came rushing back to him, the sobs, the corner, Hermione rushing in... Hermione seeing him. He looked at her with fear in his eyes only to see the same fear in hers.
To be continued. Dun dun dun.
Harry was now in the summer of his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had actually convinced his evil relatives to let him stay with the family of one third of his group of friends and girlfriend, Hermione Granger. It was this that had angered Ron into a silence between the two friends. When he learned that Harry, his best friend, had asked out his other best friend, Hermione, he was infuriated. Harry and Hermione did not what made him so angry, and they had never learned. Ron would not speak to Harry, and when he was in contact with Hermione, they never spoke of him.
It was this that pushed him over the edge. The death of his friends and his godfather, the constant fear of his life being taken by Lord Voldemort, and now not having Ron to help console him was too much to bear. Depression crawled over him by the middle of year six. By the end, he had gotten involved with self-mutilation and drug abuse. When he arrived at the Dursley's home in June, he nearly took his own life twice. It was the thoughts of Hermione and even Ron that kept him from committing suicide. When he brought up the idea of visiting Hermione to Uncle Vernon and got a positive answer, Harry was dumbfounded, but ecstatic. For the first time in nearly five months, Harry did not want to die.
Hermione woke to the sound of cries one night after Harry arrived at her house. She walked to his door to find him in the corner, shaking, hugging his knees to his chest, sobbing. She rushed over and tried to comfort him, but couldn't find any words. She never suspected that Harry Potter would ever feel like this. Not HER Harry. He couldn't. He had been through so much, but he had never cried so hard, at least around people. She kneeled down, tears filling her own eyes, and put her arms around Harry. He immediately wrapped his arms around her and sobbed onto her shoulder. She stayed there all night, cradling Harry in her arms. Even after he fell asleep, she stayed, scared to death.
When Harry awoke to find himself on the floor with Hermione, he was a little confused. He did not remember the last night at all. He rubbed his eyes and felt that they were damp. Memories came rushing back to him, the sobs, the corner, Hermione rushing in... Hermione seeing him. He looked at her with fear in his eyes only to see the same fear in hers.
To be continued. Dun dun dun.
