Unexpected Thoughts
Chapter 4
Harry walked slowly up the stairs to his dormitory. What the hell was going on? He had the hugest jumble of feelings, all rolled up into a big messy ball, sitting in his stomach. He was having some of the strangest thoughts. For a second, he looked at Hermione and was convinced that she was the most beautiful girl ever to have lived. Butâ no, that was impossible. Hermione was his best friend.
There was also the fact that, for the first time since Sirius had died, Harry had cried. That was messed up on so many levels. How could he cry? He wasn't weak. He had imagined himself crying about it eventually, but he had hoped that it would never happen, and especially not in front of his friends.
Hermione had been so nice to him, too. He could talk to her about anything. That was the good thing about having a close female friend: they didn't laugh at what you said. Of course, there were some instances where she couldn't stop laughing at him hysterically, but that was mostly because of girl problems that were, in her words, "Stupid questions with blatantly obvious answers."
Harry flopped down on his bed, trying his best to be quiet, then ran his fingers through his hair, put his head in his hands, and sighed rather loudly. He wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight, so there was no use trying.
He most certainly couldn't talk to Hermione about his feelings, or Ron, either. He just couldn't. The next person that he would talk to would beâ Siriusâ and with that thought Harry had to choke down sobs to keep the others from waking up. After collecting himself, he sat down at his desk and decided to write to the only other person he could think of, Professor Lupin.
«.:.:.:.»
Hermione was still standing up, looking at the door, five minutes after Harry had left. What had just happened there? She felt so strange, like she was intruding. Exceptâ Harry hadn't really said anything. He didn't need to, either. Hermione knew why he was crying.
She felt her heart fill with pity for Harry. He had to go through so much, and Sirius was all that he had left. Well, not any more, of courseâ But he had her, didn't he? Her and Ron, and Lupin, and the Weasleys.
She sat down heavily on one of the overstuffed chairs near the fire. She was incredibly confused, and she didn't know what she was thinking. For a second, she almost could've sworn that she saw something other then friendship in Harry's eyes, but, of course, that was out of the questions. She was Hermione, one of the Golden Trio, Harry's friend, nothing more.
Hermione gritted her teeth rather angrily. Why did men have to be so illusive? They never spoke what they thought about anything. It was so frustrating!
Not knowing what else to do, Hermione went to go find a piece of parchment and a quill to write to her mother with. She and her mother had always been close, and when there was nobody else Hermione could talk to, she always wrote to her mother. Her mother always added a new perspective to everything.
«.:.:.:.»
Harry finished his incredibly long letter to Lupin, detailing the events of the night as well as the fact that the Sorting Hat was missing, and awoke Hedwig to send it. It may have been late, but this was important. Besides, Hedwig needed to stretch her wings.
Harry tied the letter to Hedwig's leg and watched her fly off into the distance before sinking into bed and trying to sleep.
«.:.:.:.»
Having finished her letter, Hermione tucked it into her bag to send with one of the school owls in the morning, and walked out of the common room to head up to her dormitory.
«.:.:.:.»
All right, here's Chapter 4. I think it's my shortest, and I apologize, but I needed it to move things along. I promise there will be a longer one sometime this coming week. By the way, I also apologize for taking an entire week to update. Writer's block. Review. I want 3 for this chapter before I post the next one. Yes, that's right. Cracking down. Thanks to tamar-shaki for being my wonderful and faithful reader! –hands a cookie-
--Sara