A/N: Here's the next chapter, pretty fast I suppose. sniffle sniffle only two reviews, come on guys! sad puppy eyes I have never wrote a fic before, so advice, and any comments are very welcome!
Chapter 2: Underwear, Ghost, and Other Craziness:
Harry Potter lay on his bed consumed deep within his thoughts. He had been trying to forget the horrible events of the previous month, as well as the unsettling nightmares he had begun having about long, eerie corridors, and locked doors. It didn't help matters that Harry had not received a decent letter from his friends, Dumbledore, Sirius, or anybody at all. To put it bluntly, Harry Potter was a very depressed young man at the moment.
As a breeze from the open window beside his bed ruffled his dark hair, he looked over towards his writing desk on the wall opposite his bed. If Harry hadn't known better, he could have sworn that he was staring right into the eyes of another person. Harry had had the feeling that he was being watched a lot recently. He suspected it had just evolved from Harry's recently acquired paranoia. Ever since June, Harry had jumped into attack stance at the snap of twig.
Constant Vigilance my ass, he thought. A Moody imposter had nearly succeeded in murdering Harry last year right under Dumbledore's nose. As he turned back to the book he was attempting to read, he realized how silly the whole idea really was.
"With all the crap Voldemort has put me through, it's no wonder I'm going crazy," he mumbled to himself.
Harry had also been having odd dreams about a blonde-haired girl. These dreams were odd to say the least. It seemed that the girl was unaware of his presence, and all he could do in the dreams was sit and watch her. Another reason why these dreams were odd was that they actually felt like real life. Harry was free to move around, and act as he would normally. The reason behind these dreams was unknown to Harry. This made-up girl seemed so real, and Harry actually really liked her, thought sometimes her phone conversations with her friends reminded him of Legally Blonde. This girl however was not ditzy…she just tended to get a little over excited about boys. No matter though, thought Harry, he was sure that in the confines of her dormitory, even Hermione must have had a "girl talk" with Lavender and Parvati at some time.
Deciding that a cold shower would perhaps distract him from suicidal thoughts, he chucked Flying with the Cannons onto his bedside table, and stalked out of the room.
"Who would want to buy this?" asked a medium-height brunette, gesturing to a very…interesting undergarment.
"I think the real question is who would wear that, even if they did buy it!" exclaimed Nichole.
The undergarment in question was a black g-string with a very with a very…fascinating pattern of beads at a spot that would be most uncomfortable. Nichole was out shopping with her two best friends, Sarah McEwen, and Meghan Williams. Sarah was medium-height, with below-the-shoulder, straight, light-brown hair. She also had brown eyes, and a pale complexion, with rosy cheeks. Meghan had a large brown eyes, golden skin, with darker brown hair that fell in natural waves to the middle of her back.
"The sick thing is that some people actually want to go around showing something like that off!" said Meghan.
"That's disgusting," replied Nichole. "Can you imagine how much it would hurt to sit down!"
"Yeah, beads up the ass sure sounds like fun doesn't it?" joked Meghan.
The girls had spent next hour fooling around in the LaSenza store at the local mall. Let's just say that if god didn't give you the goods, then this would be the place to buy them. Sarah and Meghan had had much fun trying on assortments of stuffed, air, gel, and water bras, while Nichole simply complained that god had been much too gracious to her in the first place, and she wasn't about to beg for more.
Her friends finally forced her into the dressing room by threatening to buy her the beaded g-string for her next birthday if she refused. Nichole came out of the dressing room looking like she had two melons strapped to her chest, however her friends didn't give up until Nichole accidentally (or maybe not) popped the inflatable bra as she was attempting to remove it. The girls decided they had better scram, lest the evil clerks discover their crime, and charge make them cough up their precious allowance money for it.
When they reached the bus stop outside the mall, they parted ways.
"So remember there's gonna be a sleepover at my house tomorrow night okay?" said Sarah. "I'm having a few people over for a small party before though, so come around seven."
Nichole arrived home at about eight o' clock. She had a late dinner, and watched an episode of Friends –her favorite show, before getting to bed around 10.
Nichole was completely relaxed, sitting on her bed, reading The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. Her boyfriend, Eric had suggested she read it, and so far, she thought that this J.R.R. Tolkien was possibly just as bad as Shakespeare. Eric was crazy about those books, and thought that his girlfriends could "share the interest." Eric was a nice guy: smart, funny, and not to mention good-looking. He was Nichole's image of the "perfect boyfriend". They had been going out almost for their entire grade 9 year. He had asked her to the Christmas dance, and it all kind of went from there.
Nichole yawned as she was trying to remember again how to distinguish Sauron from Sauromon. She knew they were both evil so…who gives a damn anyway. Nichole decided she had had enough of the novel and turned out her light, hoping to visit Harry again in her dreams.
5 minutes later…awake yes, but very tired.
10 minutes later…still awake.
15 minutes later…yes, awake.
Nichole was wondering why she couldn't sleep. It was only 10:30, but she was dead tired because she only got about 3 hours of sleep the night before. She was about to reach over to grab some ear-plugs from her drawer when she whipped her head around towards the other end of her bed. She could have sworn she saw the covers on the other side of her queen bed shift, as if under the weight of an invisible person.
It was too dark in her room to see anything, so she leapt out of her bed and flipped the light switch.
Nothing there.
Oh, peachy, not only do I have freaky dreams, but now I am imagining things, she thought.
She climbed back under the covers, put her ear-plugs in, and shut her eyes tight. Nothing there, nothing there, nothing there, she kept thinking. Finally, she drifted off into a short nap…
Harry was staring down a long corridor. It was dark, and lined with doors on both sides. He ran down the hallway towards the door at the very end.
It was locked. As usual.
Harry kicked the door in frustration. He had been curious as to what lay beyond that door for ages. He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip hard, as his big toe on his right foot burned in pain.
When he opened his eyes, he saw the corridor fading from view, while a very…pink (for lack of a better word)room materialized in front of him.
Harry's heart leapt with excitement. He knew that this familiar room belonged to the blonde-haired beauty he had visited before in his dreams. She sat on a fluffy pink bed in the corner of the room, reading The Lord of the Rings. It had been obvious to Harry from the start that she was not of the magical world. No, her room contained very ordinary possessions, well ordinary for a girl anyway, Harry thought. The white vanity in the opposite corner of her bed was littered with hairpins, elastics, clips, and a variety of make-up items. A desk stood against the wall opposite her bed, while a well-organized bookshelf stood in the corner beside her bed. The bookshelf contained a series of novels, as well as textbooks, and a few photo albums.
The girl yawned, and put the book down on her nightstand, as she reached up to flick off the light switch. Harry watched as the girl tossed and turned for a while, attempting to fall asleep. Harry, his feet growing tired, moved to sit down on the other side of her bed (it looked so comfy with all its poofiness), however, the moment he sat down, the girl's head whipped around, as she stared at the spot where his bottom resided on the comforter.
Shit. Harry hadn't realized that his weight affected solid objects, he had thought he was something like a ghost while in her world.
"Well, apparently not, stupid!" screameda voice in Harry's head.
The girl leapt out of bed to switch on the light, and in the second her back was turned, Harry jumped off her bed, and retreated to the corner by her bookshelf, hoping she would think that the shift on her bed had been her imagination.
Panting, she turned on the light, and stared at the spot where Harry had been seconds before. Giving a relieved sigh, she turned the light back off, and got back into bed, and shut her eyes tight. To Harry, she seemed frightened that something was going to jump out at her at any moment.
After about ten minutes, Harry rose from his crouched position in the corner. The girl appeared to be asleep. Her breathing had slowed, and was steady, while her face was relaxed. She looked so beautifully innocent asleep, thought Harry.
Like an angel.
Harry walked over beside her, and brushed a stray curl that had escaped her pony-tail off her cheek.
What exactly are you trying to do? She doesn't even know you exist.
Harry sat and watched the girl for a few more minutes before she stirred. He quickly retreated back to his corner.
Nichole blinked her eyes a few times, in an attempt to orientate herself. She slowly sat up, confusedly, and gazed in front of her, towards her closet. For a fleeting second, she saw a familiar figure with dark hair, green eyes, and a nervous expression on his face, staring right back at her. After she blinked, however, she saw only shoes spilling out of her open closet door.
"Oh, well that's just wonderful," she thought. "Now I'm seeing ghosts."
Then, the idea dawned on her. Hypotherically of course, if Harry was real, and she was having these strange dreams about him, would they possibly work in reverse? She could have sworn she had seen a person standing there, and she was sure that before, another person had sat down on her bed beside her! If he was here, then could she at least talk to him, and ask him if he knew anything about these strange dreams? Even if it did sound crazy, she might as well take the chance shouldn't she? Nothing bad could possibly come of it.
Except for the fact that you admit to yourself that you are insane and deserve to be locked up!
Shut UP conscience!
"Harry," she whispered uncertainly, "is that you?"
A/N: Please review my work:P