A/N: Heres chapter 15 for you, I know its not long but it will have to do, it's a very important chapter, as the next few chapters are extremely important to the story, as it is all part of the master plan…Muahahahaha- Eeek, anyways, this is a continuation from the chapter where McGonagall sees the aparations in her transfiguration classroom. It's a outlook on Harry's Pov, and it will all make sense in the next chapter so be warned lol! Muahahahaha!
Disclaimer: I do not own, which as I said before, sucks immensely
Chapter 15: Someone's watching me
Harry ran as fast as he could to Moaning Murtles Bathroom. He had the map in his pocket but he didn't take it out. He didn't care if they followed him, they couldn't get to him even if they did.
But as eh approached the door he stopped. There was something about the place now that he hadn't noticed before. It had this feeling of loss and secrets, something he didn't really need any more to dwell into.
Feeling frustrated that the place he wanted to go to think to himself , he no longer wanted to be anywhere near, was not helping any.
Maybe It was the fact that he didn't want to face a rotting basilisk, or see the blood that has stained the floor. Maybe it was because somebody had died there, or maybe it was because it wouldn't help.
Sighing he slid down the wall. No matter where he went, what he did, who he spoke too, he was always reminded of the oncoming darkness? He couldn't even escape the Gosh forsaken Dursley's anymore to Hogwarts to find sanctuary. He was haunted here too.
A tear slid down his face as he realized he couldn't even sleep without being haunted. His face always lingered there…his breath always smothering him… his laughter ringing in his ears…
Shaking his head he got up again. It would do no good to brood on something that was. His life was a big screw up, which was for sure. And he doubted he would ever have the chance to live a normal life, and be equalized as a normal person. But then again, he never was, so why should it matter?
His Godfather was gone, his mother, his father, Cedric, his courage, his dignity, his hope, his faith.
He didn't care anymore.
If Voldemort wanted to kill him, then so be it. He was nothing now. His memories and thoughts had shredded him to smithereens already. His relatives made sure of that.
Memories of laughter, jokes, and happiness seemed too distant now. All that was left was a feeling of despair. His courage had shriveled away as well, now all he wanted to do was curl up in a hole and hopes to disappear.
He traced a thing finger over his famous scar. Or infamous in his mind. He didn't want it anymore. A small childhood memory floated to his mind as he remembered how he thought it looked cool, and made him different from all the rest of the bullying kids. He felt special.
How very close to the truth he was.
It was scary to look at his pictures now; his eyes had diminished to nothing. The sparkle was gone, and in its wake was a dead emerald. His face ached every time he fake smiled. The muscles were so worn from pretending to be happy.
If only the wizarding world could see their hero now.
The image of fudge getting fired floated to his mind and he had to crack a small laugh. That would be priceless to see.
Harry closed his eyes; his weariness was taking over again. If only he could just disappear…
A small prickly feeling was pocking him in the back of the neck, and he had a feeling of sudden unease, as if someone was watching him…
Sighting up straighter, he opened his eyes warily, hoping not to receive some unpleasant sight. With him you never knew; the impossible always seemed to happen.
The feeling didn't go away though as he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Taking out his wand he looked around him suspiciously. Maybe they were wearing a invisibility cloak…
But his gut told him no one was. It was a strange gut feeling really, like the kind you get when you see something so utterly impossible you hardly believe its true…
Nothing there.
Feeling slightly more at ease that nothing jumped out and attacked him yet he started walking away; wand still at bay.
The astronomy tower had a beautiful view of the evasive grounds. Especially when it got darker out, and the stars shone down at you.
His emerald eyes flickered for a moment, a distant memory of a huge hippogriff and a runaway convict floating to his mind. The feeling of success was one of new to him, he didn't remember what it felt like.
But he knew that day was successful, Because he helped save an innocent mans life. He proved to Dumbledore someone's guilt, and he discovered the truth. Something, which can be a wonderful and terrible thing…
Harry had experienced both.
Pushing the oncoming thoughts of the Prophecy away, Harry sat down on the ledge, dangling his feet over the tower, towards the faraway ground…
He knew it was stupid to sit there; one whisper and he might accidentally fall out of pure shock. But what did he have to lose anyway?
Harry suddenly remembered why he had run from his friends in the first place. The memory of their shouting match, and their frightening discovery…
He shivered, if from the cold he didn't know, but any thoughts on Dementors could make you shiver till you froze to death.
Dementors.
Why were their Dementors in the castle? What was Dumbledore hiding? Was he hiding something? Was Ron's predicament really true? Did they just make their way in there by themselves?
It didn't make sense.
Harry, Ron and Hermione had encountered numerous amounts of times Dementors. But never have they inside the castle.
Their little trip from the library doing homework had wound them up a little. Feeling rather foolish he recalled how he suggested they go the room of requirement to rest a little, what was missing one class?
Hermione seemed really agitated and apprehensive about it. Her disapproving glare was all he needed to remind him of how 'irresponsible' it was. But he didn't care, just like he had stopped really caring about much lately. It didn't seem to matter anymore.
The sight that met them once they got their thought was enough to make anyone run screaming in panic.
Harry reflected on the bone-chilling scream that had filled his ears as the Dementors began to take effect on him once he stepped into the room. It was like being dunked into a bucket of cold ice, and staying there because you were too cold to move properly.
Without much thought the trio ran for all their might back to the old transfiguration room.
Now that eh thought about, he remembered getting that odd feeling of being watched in the transfiguration room as well. What was it?
Harry had this awful sensation that something big was happening… something big was happening right beneath all their noses…
For the life of him though he couldn't figure out what.
Now all he was really content at doing though was forgetting about the Dementors, the uprising war, and his troubled thoughts. And just sit peacefully where he was with his feet hanging dangerously off the astronomy tower…
But of course this couldn't happen, because he was the boy-who-bloody-lived.
If only he had known that his assumptions had been more then correct, and that something big was happening right under his nose… he may not have been as surprised when a ghost like figure of his Father flashed before his eyes, making him lose his balance…