Enter: Samantha Grenfield
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I stepped out of my front door into the rainwashed morning, turned and locked my door, then started the two-and-a-half mile trek to work.
The sky was clear of all clouds--the first time in a long time. Birds were chirping and random people walked down the street either heading for work or walking their dogs or just walking or jogging.
I ignored them all. I yawned widely as she walked on. I hadn't slept well at all last night. Thoughts of Harry kept pushing into my subconscious mind and making me worry and feel guilty. Even now, as I crossed an intersection across from a bustling market-place, I wondered if it was right to confront Harry the way that she had.
Thoughts kept drifting through my mind like Did you see his face when you called him Harry? Well, he might've trusted you before, but fat chance he'll trust you now.
I bit my lip and skirted around a family from Ireland, who were all talking loudly and fighting over a street map. As I walked past them one of them stopped me.
"Oy! Miss! Could you help us out really fast, please?" One of the older children called. I sighed and turned slowly around. The boy stared at her gothic appearance for a second then said. "Uh...Well, we need to find the Queen Street Station, and these blokes don't know how to work a map, and they won't let me-"
"It's at the end of Queen Street." Sam interrupted him. "On the other side of the City Centre." Then I turned and walked off half ignoring the hurried "Thanks!" as I walked on.
I have to talk to Harry today. There's no other way to do it. I need to talk to him and say...um...sorry...or something.
I kicked myself mentally.
Sorry! He's obviously running away from something, Isn't he? And you almost blew his cover! Sure you can tell him you won't tell anyone, but he's not going to believe you unless he sees it. You need a lot more than a 'sorry' girl! You need to tell him everything...
I nearly ran into a wall. Stopping myself just in time, I looked up. I was there.
I grinned to myself a little as I pulled out a key from my pocket and inserted it into the keyhole on the front door to the parlour. I pushed aside all previous thoughts...for now. Maybe today, maybe today I had actually beat Harry to work. Or...James...
I shook my head and stepped through the door.
The front room was empty...
I turned on the lights in the waiting room, then walked behind the front desk and through the next door into the actual parlour.
Everything was untouched and unprepared for the day in here, too.
I laughed out loud. I shouted in a type of victory cheer. "Haha! I finally beat you to work, H--James!"
There was a loud "DAAH!" followed by a crash! in the locker room, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. A moment later, a very disheveled James burst out the door.
When he saw me, he stopped. "Sam! You fucking scared me! Don't do that!"
I started giggling uncontrollably, nearly collapsing onto one of the medical beds. All previous thoughts and worries forgotten.
He frowned down at me. "What're you laughing at?"
"Heeheehee... you! Hahahahahaha!" He folded his arms and stared at me.
"It's not that funny, you know. Imagine if you were sleeping and someone burst in shoutin' some rubbish. You'd probably pass out for fright. So don't go laughing at me."
I fought to control my breathing. After a few seconds, I was able to say, "Yeah, I'm sure, but...well...I SCARED YOU! " and once again I broke into uncontrollable giggles. I didn't know what was wrong with me. If I had scared Derrin or Tom, sure I would laugh, but not like this. Maybe it was because in all his time working here, no matter how hard I or Derrin or Tom tried, we couldn't scare him or pull a prank on him or anything. (Yeah...we kinda joke around a lot.). Or maybe it was the look on his face. He leaned against the door, arms folded, staring at me with a bemused expression on his face. The corner of his lips curled into a smirk. His eyes...
I blushed and turned away from him, still giggling, though a bit quieter.
"Are you takin' the mick?" He asked, amused.
I stopped laughing as my brain caught up with me. Still red in the face I turned and asked him, "You were sleeping?"
He reached up and scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah...well,"
"Got here that early did you?" I asked, watching his face. He turned a bit red as he muttered something under his breath.
"What?" I asked.
"Well, if you must know, I, uh, I slept here over the night." He seemed to be challenging me to laugh again if I dared.
"Why'd you sleep here, of all places?" He shrugged, then said, "Well, there's a shower and stuff, a comfortable chair, heating." I heard him mutter "a roof..." so low I was sure e didn't mean for me to hear, but I did.
"Don't...don't you have anywhere else to go?" I asked quietly.
After a minute he shook his head. "Well why didn't you say anything? And don't say 'I didn't want you to worry', 'I don't want to be a liability', 'I didn't want to draw any attention', or 'I didn't want any sympathy or anything'." I said, counting off most of his usual excuses on my fingers.
He seemed to deflate for a moment, then said, "Have you had breakfast?"
I was completely thrown off. "What?"
"Have you had breakfast? I was going to go to the market and get something, but we could go to a cafe or something if you want." I noticed he was blushing a little as he said this.
Butterflies started beating against the inside of my stomach with heavy wings as I blushed a little and said, "Yeah, uh...that sounds good. But you haven't escaped my question, and changing the subject won't help you escape it."
He put up his hands in front of him as if to say 'All right. You win.' and said, "I'm not trying to get out of anything. I'm just hungry."
I rolled my eyes and muttered "boys."
"What? I bet you're hungry, too."
"Not really."
"Oh, come off it. I heard your stomach rumbling a minute ago."
I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. "My stomach did not rumble."
"Did to."
"Did not."
"Did to."
"Did not! "
He smirked. "Whatever you say, rumbles." He ducked my swing and headed towards the door. His smile seemed to melt into my brain as I followed him out the door.
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In the corner of the locker room, hidden under an invisibility cloak, Hermione glared daggers at Ron, who was clutching his stomach. It rumbled loudly again.
"What? Do you realize it's been nearly a day since we ate last?"
Hermione rolled her eyes.