A New Friend or Foe

Chapter Eight

"Erica?" Harry said. The girl jumped. "What are you doing here? I mean, out there? What were you up to?"

"I...erm..."

"Erica? What?" Harry whispered, taking her arm gently and leading her to the nearest seat. They both sat. "What is it? You can trust me."

'Oh, sure,' Erica thought sarcastically, but all the same, she couldn't help but feel like she was doing something wrong; her "chat" with her father had only strengthened her suspicions. But she had decided that he was probably overcome with grief-and grief could make a person do crazy things. So she stuck to the plan. For now.

However, she was at a loss of what to say. There was no way she could just step up and tell this boy, this Harry, that she had been out in the Forbidden Forest in the dead of night talking to her father about his doom. 'No, completely out of the question,' the girl decided. But still, her words touched her. He really sounded sincere.

"Erica, are you okay? What were you up to?" Harry persisted. He was still holding her arm. She shook free and stood up.

"Well, you know, I was...just...exploring," she improvised.

"Exploring? Couldn't you do that in the daytime?"

"Well...yeah...but maybe there's more to be found at night, have you ever considered that, Harry?"

He laughed slightly, remembering his first year, and the Mirror of Erised. "Yes, actually I have. As a matter of fact..." he broke off, grinning. He sat down on the sofa and Erica followed the suit.

"As a matter of fact what?"

"I've done a lot of 'night traveling' if you would call it that."

"Oh...so you're not going to...you know...tell on me?"

"Get real, Erica. I wouldn't do that."

"Then why were you asking me all those questions?" Erica asked, suddenly suspicious.

He shrugged. "I don't know...I guess...I was just a little worried, that's all."

"Worried?"

"Well...yes. Hogwarts can be dangerous. Trust me, I know."

"Ah. But don't worry. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." She smiled inwardly. The plan was working. Harry really seemed to like her. And that's what she needed, if her father's plot was to work. But still, doubts and troubles still brewed around in her mind.

She pushed all fears out of her mind and said, as off-hand as possible, "So...what were you doing?"

"Oh, me?"

"No, the invisible person next to you."

Harry laughed. "You know, in this school, anything's possible. Even that."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah."

"So...?"

"So...what?"

"What were you doing?"

"Who me?"

Erica punched him lightly on the arm. "Please," she said, "let's not go through this again."

Still grinning, Harry said, "Okay, truth is...I couldn't sleep."

"Why not?"

"My scar?"

"Your...scar?"

"Yeah. The one...Voldemort...gave me...that night..." He broke off, no longer smiling.

Erica frowned. Her father had told her about his scar...and this Lord Voldemort, who supposedly had killed Harry's parents at a young age, although he had been very vague on the details. He had also mentioned that it was, perhaps, this grief that caused him to become a murderer. After all, grief can make a person do crazy things. She had not a clue, of course, that she was really being scammed and that Voldemort was really her own father. He had left out that little detail.

"Oh," Erica said after a long silence. "I'm...sorry. You know, I'm kind of new to this magic thing. So I don't know a lot about you, except that you're famous. But what happened that night? How did your parents...?" She couldn't bring herself to finish.

Tears threatening to come, Harry choked out, "M-murdered. By Voldemort."

"Who exactly is he?"

"The most evil being on the earth."

"Oh. Wow. That really explains a lot."

Harry stared at her with pain-glazed eyes. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "Actually, I know how you feel. I lost my mom not too long ago."

"Oh?" Harry said, staring at her sympathetically. "How?"

Tears beginning to pour down her cheeks, the girl sobbed, "I don't know, Harry, I don't know. One day she was fine, and the next..." It was so hard not to say, 'I don't know, but I bet you do! Murderer!' She refrained, however.

Harry, unsure of what to do at a time like this, did the only thing he could think of: pull her into a reassuring hug. "I'm sorry," he said. "You really loved her, huh?" The tears kept coming as she started in surprise. Why was he doing this? He was the murderer...or was he?

More confused and distraught than ever, Erica broke free from Harry and raced away, up the stairs of the girl's dormitory, and flopped down on her bed, sobbing.

Meanwhile, Harry sat stunned in the common room, totally bewildered.

~Emachinescat ^..^