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Sweat trickled down Harry Potter's panting face as he ran up the 2578 steps that led to the hospital wing. His legs were sore, his vision blurred, and his body was next to death. Still, he carried his legs up the stairs as fast as he can.
When he heard that Sora was sick, he was stricken with disbelief. There was no way that a smart witch like Sora could fall ill and make it hard to get up once more. He had a hard time believing all of the words that came out of Dumbledore. 'Sora. How could you be sick like this?' he thought. 'Maybe she's dying.' 'Maybe she's just resting.' 'Maybe she's bluffing.' 'Maybe Voldemort attacked her.' As the last thought came into his restless mind, he stopped. "No. No. No way. No. No. No. No. No." He said out loud. He simply denied it and went back to climbing the stairs.
After what seemed literally like hell, he reached his destination. Sora. She lied on the bed, fragile and weak. Her ghostly white face looked peaceful, but the waterfall of sweat proved her pain. What had happened to her. He made his way to her bed, and lifted his heavy hands to her face. He gently pushed the drenched hair out of her face. He reached into his pocket and took out a piece of cloth that he had taken from the Dursleys. He wiped her face dry, and felt her forehead. It was hot. At that moment, he dropped his handkerchief and collapsed onto the hard floor. Kneeling on the floor at the foot of her bed, he broke down. He cried for not only Sora, but himself. The cruel, evil, unfair, and stressful life that he had lived since he was just a baby. The burden that he held on his shoulders since he was one. The population of wizards relied on him, and only him. He sobbed for how he lost everyone who he loved. He cried for how he never had what he really needed, loving people caring for him. He had lost everything. He could have stayed like this, with tears making its way down his face one by one. However, he was stopped by a familiar voice.
"Hary, mate, you okay?" Ron was leaning by the doorway, watching Harry blubbering like this.
"I, I don't know. I mean, what if she dies? What am I supposed to do? I already promised myself that she will be the only girl for me." he sputtered. "If she DIES, what am I supposed to do with myself? What Ron? What the hell am I supposed to do?"
"Aw, man, it's alright. No wizard's ever died because they were sick."
"No, Ron, I don't think that's it. See, as I was coming up here, I was thinking of how she could have fallen sick. Then, a thought came into my head. It was an unfriendly thought, one that I don't want true, but it sounds so true. Ron, I think Voldemort knows my feelings for her. Remember what he did to Sirius? I think, I think he attacked her. Doesn't, doesn't that sound-sound-right, Ron?"
Ron remained speechless. "Harry, well, if Voldemort attacked her, she probably would be dead. She seems fine now, just resting I guess."
Harry turned to face Sora. She did look like she was resting. Her eyes were closed, and a slight tint of a smile on her lips. 'I hope you are having a peaceful dram.' he told her mentally. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. Thanks mate. But man, if Voldemort had really done something to her, man, I'll beat the crap out of him."
Ron grinned. "You go do that, Harry." Harry smiled. Then, his face turned serious.
"Er-Ron. You know Hermione-" The smirk on Ron's face disappeared. He slowly said, "What..."
"Er- Well, she seems really happy where she is right now, Ron, so I don't think you have to worry about Draco and her."
A spark went flying in Ron's eyes. "Well, I'm never forgiving that bloody bastard. I can't believe that she did! It's so stupid. What happened to him calling her Mudblood? What happened to Hermione getting hurt tirelessly? That git deserves the worst, but what does he get? A girl like Hermione! It's not fair! I've stuck to Hermione for 7 years, and she gives ME nothing-" Ron quickly slapped his hand over his mouth. Harry looked at him.
"What- You like Hermione?"
His face turning into the color of his hair, he nodded.
"Why, How come you never told me?"
"Well, I never got a chance to tell you. I mean, last year, you liked her too, and I just didn't have the nerve to tell you. Plus, I don't want to discourage myself more because I know I don't have a chance with her anyway. I mean, I've liked Hermione since forever. 4th year? I mean, why do you think I was so angry when she went to the Yule Ball with Krum?"
Suddenly, a familiar voice came from the door. "Is-is that true Ron?" her face streaked with tears, Hermione looked intently at Ron.
Ron's face turned the color of his hair. "I guess I really can't say it's not."
"Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"Well, you liked Harry last year, and this year, you were all goo goo-ing Malfoy. What, you want me to tell you and be laughed at for the rest of the year?"
"Well, it would have been, er, relieving to tell me."
"Fine! I like you Hermione! I like you tons!" expectantly, Ron felt as if he lost 20 pounds off his shoulders.
Her eyes flooded with tears. "I'm, I'm sorry Ron." and she ran out of the room. A tear trickled down Ron's pale face.
"Well, isn't this just a wonderful day for all of us."
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Darkness invaded the night. The slight breeze challenged the dangling leaves. Owls hooted softly, crickets chirped, and squirrels scurried around, hopelessly looking for food on the white ground. Harry Potter lost his battle to stay awake beside Sora.
Whether it was his imagination or reality, a figure walked up to this sleeping boy, and gently outlined his face. Harry jerked his head up. The figure was Sora. In a barely audible voice, she whispered, "Follow me." She began to float out of the room, and out of the castle. He scurried behind her.
"Where are we going? What-weren't you sick? Are you okay now? Where-I could get expelled for going out of bounds! Where are you taking me! Hello? Can you hear me?" questions escaped Harry. But Sora still walked on. When Harry looked closely, he saw that she was walking a bit differently. Like she was drunk. Slightly. The further she walked, the more severe her walking became. By the time Hogwarts was just barely seen over the mass of trees, she was zizagging all over the snow. Often she spun around, faced Harry, and went back to walking. Harry began to question her.
"Are-are you drunk? Are you okay? Where are we going? Are you sure we are going the right way? You know that I probably won't be able to make it back to school on time right? Hello? Are you ignoring me or something?" Suddenly, Sora turned around. She walked up to him, just centimeters apart. She put a finger daintly on his purple lips. She brought the finger to his chin and instead, put her own lips on his. She walked away, gave him one look that said "Just follow." and continued to walk into the night.
It seemed like hours when they reached a town of muggles. She entered the town and walked up the street until she stopped in front of a house. It was a pleasant house. It was a two storied blue house with a wide flower garden in the front yard. The house had white lining. Sora patiently waited for Harry. When he stood next to her, she walked up to the front door and opened it.
"What-are you allowed to do this? You're not just barging in right?"
When he entered the house, she was gone.
"That-was-freaky" he whispered to himself. His eye caught a shelf above the fireplace. He walked over. There were framed photos covered completely with dust. Harry took out a piece of cloth and wiped it. There was a photograph of a man, woman, and a small child. The man had brown combed hair, and broad shoulders. The woman was pretty with curled brown and black hair, and pink floral dress. She held the hand of a young girl who had copper wavy hair and yellow dress outfit. The family looked happy and so cozy together. Suddenly, his eyes were focused on the eyes of the young girl. They were so deep and intelligent. Her eyes hid something. A secret. They were so familiar. Hadn't he seen that same secret in Sora's eyes? He took a step back. The floor creaked. When he looked down, he saw that the floorboard was uneven. He bent down and lifted the board.
What he saw was amazing. At first, there was nothing. Then, further in the floor, he saw a piece of paper. He strained his fingers and was able to pull it out. It was another picture. This time, it was a picture of a man who looked just like Harry. The man had his arms around a pregnant-a pregnant Lily. This couple was Harry's parents. Holding the picture, he slowly stood up. He looked around. He saw a kitchen, and walked over. He sat on a high stool and looked so seriously at the photo. His eyes began to water, and his head began to fill with questions.
He nearly fell off when he heard the door across the kitchen open. When the door was just slightly open, booming pop music blared. A shadow appeared in the hall.
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Oh yea! Hey next chapter coming up. School ends (for me) this week, and once this week is over, I could work on this story 24/7. But then, I could always extend my break time if nobody reviews. So review por favor!