::whines:: Things are slowly, slowly gonna come together. oO They're either in their sixth or seventh year. I dunno yet. Short chapter, written quickly, not the best mind you.
"Harry, you need to eat something."
"I'm fine Hermione."
"You haven't even touched your pumpkin juice!" Hermione cried one morning at breakfast. Harry had just been idly moving his food about his plate, never once taking a bite of his food. Both Ron and Hermione were looking at him oddly, however it was Hermione who had finally had enough of just watching her friend sit around not eating. It was pointless really. "You've got to-"
"Are you suddenly my mum, Hermione?" Harry asked suddenly, staring down at his plate. His eggs had crossed over to his beacon, and his sausage was lining the whole plate. Artistic really. You'd think that next he'd start to make a face. Though what he had said had caught the girl completely off guard, and caused Ron to look up. Oh yes, there was certainly tension rising in the group.
The girl stared blankly at her friend, not believing that he had really said that. Surely he didn't mean that right? She was only looking out for him was all, she meant no harm in that really. "Harry, I'm just saying....you should eat something. What you're doing isn't healthy."
"And you badgering him hasn't got to be healthy either, 'Mione." Ron hissed, waving a hand at Hermione who shot him a glare. "Oh ease up, would you?" He said just before taking a bite out of his toast. He went on to say something, though it was clearly muffled. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"What he's doing isn't healthy Ron!"
"Argh," Harry finally groaned, letting his fork drop down to his plate. "Honestly. I'm not hungry, alright? I'm fine. Look, I'm going to the library, I have to finish up an essay for Binns. I'll see you around." He mumbled, standing up and taking his leave of the Great Hall, passing the Slytherin table as he went. That whole table have been strangely quiet. After all, word did get around of Draco's death. And if that was enough to get him all quiet, he couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like in the Slytherin common room.
Halfway to the library, Harry's pace had slowed and he had idly placed his hands into his pockets. He was looking around the corridor like he had never seen it before, as if it was something all new to him. Foolish really, he gone down this same corridor many times before! Maybe it just seemed new to him now because he knew he wouldn't be hearing some snide comment from behind him, or be pulled into a vacant closest just up ahead anymore.
Was this really life with out Draco Malfoy? Merlin, it felt he had just been plucked right off of the face of the planet. No one seemed to talk about him anymore.
Just as Harry rounded a corner he stared in disbelief at the sight he saw before him. A woman stood trying to pry open a door. A closet door. But there was something....strange about this woman. She seemed perfectly normal. Even if she was talking to the door as she tried to pry it open.
"Come on you! Open up," she growled at it, pulling at the door knob. Her voice sounded oddly familiar. "Come on then you sod! I'm not going to hurt you... just beat you!" And that's when Harry noticed it. Orange hair. The bloody woman had orange hair that lay in neat little curls around shoulders.
"You?" Harry said incredulously, stepping a bit closer, slowly. "No, you, you can't be here."
"Wotcher, Harry!"
