Title: What is Easier Written

Author: Unirthlee

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. J. K. Rowling, however, does

Rating: PG /slash/

Chapter: 4

Harry,

I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell you exactly how stupid you were to go searching for the Sorcerer's Stone. How stupid it was to make everyone worry like that…

I remember exactly where I was when I received the news that you were missing.

Surrounded by my fellow Slytherins, we were in our common room when Blaise stomped into the room saying something or other about Harry Potter suddenly disappearing.

No one paid him much mind till later that night when Snape announced it, but I, however, went pale when Blaise first spoke it. But sense no one else was jumping up at the news of your disappearance, I had to lay low, sink into the cushions, and wonder what the hell was going on. It was pure torture to be surrounded by those people and not be able to make a move toward figuring out an answer. So, the only route out; I went to bed early.

I wasn't hoping for sleep, Merlin knows I didn't get any for the rest of the night, but at least I was alone to try and figure out what was going on. Maybe you had run away, had I pushed you to that?! Or you were killed by You-Know-How's second appearance, and once again it was all my fault because he knew where you where thanks to me!

I spent the rest of the night flipping and turning under my covers with nothing but question's surrounding my head, all hope of your demise gone. Now I just wanted your survival, your return… anything to sanctify that you were ok and nothing like this was ever going to happen again.

So it came as a shock when, after the announcement of you disappearance, I was shaken from my dazed state and told that you had returned. Now the Slytherin room was in an uproar. Seems everyone had secretly been wanting your death. Go figure.

But, I…I had to see you.

I bet that you didn't even know I was there, staring down at you, only mere inches away from touching you; your cheek, your hand… I bet you didn't even know you were in the bloody infirmary, either.

But I knew everything. I knew how you looked, bloodied, scraped, that scar bright red and raw. I knew where you were, where we were together… I could do anything to you with no one around, I could have killed you. The thought even scampered across my mind. Or I could have held your hand…

But I didn't even touch you. I pulled up a chair, stared down at your sleeping figure for less then five minutes and left without a second thought.

Once again, you had no idea I was even alive, let alone in the same room as you. But perhaps it was better that way…I might not have been able to take what you could have said, if you had been awake.

I still have no idea what the encounter has or had done to me, but I know that away from the others, away from everyone—

I began to look at you alittle differently…

You had become alittle more than just competition.

Thanks for reading

Please, R&R