Fall is ending, winter is beginning. Another season flown by, another season arrives. It’s the middle of November now, so I suppose winter is still in the distance, but it’s still coming. I’m going to go back home for the winter holidays. Tell my parents about my new school, my new life, my new boyfriend? I wonder how they’ll take it. And of course, I’d get to visit little Anthea too. I wonder how much she’s grown since the past few months.
But those things aren’t really on my mind. It was still Harry. Always Harry that was on the top of the list of things to think of. Things to figure out. Yes, Harry was very hard to figure out.
So here I am, sitting alone by the lake with the sky a splattered rainbow of red, orange, and pink. My fingers intertwined with the thin gold chain of the necklace Harry had given me. My fingers can feel every curve of a petal, every dent or scratch on the lily flower that hung so daintily on the chain. With this necklace, I yearned to know more. Know more about Lily. About James Potter. About Harry’s life.
If only he would let me.
I feel like I’m walking repeatedly into a stone wall, getting no where at all, and once I hit the wall, I bounce back even farther again. But through all this, I still love Harry. I don’t know why, but I really love him. I guess that saying is right; when you truly love someone, there are no reasons.
So perhaps you might think it’s one of those teenage romances. With the sweet romantic candle-light dinners and the fresh red roses that greet you everytime you open the door. Yet no…it doesn’t feel like that at all. My relationship feels surreal. I feel like I’m walking on clouds, or water, something not solid. Sometimes, it feels hard to breath. That’s when Harry closes up on me. And yet sometimes I feel like I’m surfacing again- that’s when Harry shows me more of him. Let’s me see the real Harry.
But those times are so rare, and I drown more than I surface.
And I wonder when I’ll completely drown…
For Muggle Studies, we are studying about muggle art. And strange enough, we are to draw muggle art. Yet I don’t really see the difference between muggle art and wizarding art other than the fact that wizarding paintings move. Oh well, I suppose Professor Leo has run out of things to teach us. She really is a bit strange.
I’m standing in front of my canvas thinking that I could be spending time studying for an upcoming Defense Against the Dark Arts test instead of drawing something with ‘light’, ‘perspective’, and ‘shadows’ according to Professor Leo. I think she really likes art, looking at how enthusiastic she is while the rest of the class is rather glum.
“Miss Granger! Miss Granger!”
I snapped my head to attention and looked at her questioningly. “Yes, professor?”
“Why are you just standing there, dear? Pick up your brush,” She picked up my brush, “and express yourself!” She placed the brush in my hands, wrapping my fingers around the smooth wooden handle while giving me a ridiculously bright smile.
I managed a feeble smile in return and dipped my brush into a random bottle of paint. It happened to be green. Green as the fresh grass under the rays of the sun. Green as the leaves of the trees…Green as his eyes.
I draw a pair of eyes with black paint and green. The black mixes a bit with the green, causing the eyes to seem…dark. Haunted? No, not really haunted, but mysterious. Just like my Harry. I look at the eyes a bit more before someone peeked over my shoulder.
It was Lavender. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I replied.
“Well, it was a compliment.” Lavender stepped back with crossed arms, a wet brush in her hand that was dabbed with red. “Oddly, those eyes remind me of his eyes, don’t you think?” She winked casually at me.
I couldn’t compress the smile that was forming on my dry lips. I hadn’t realized they were so dry, they felt like cracking. “Yeah, it does look like his eyes. Doesn’t it?”
“Mmm hmm,” She answered.
I turned to look over my shoulder at her canvas. A mop of red meets my eyes. “Ah, a red blob.”
She turned crimson and quickly stood in front of her canvas, blocking my sight from it. “Uh, yeah. You see, it’s almost Christmas in a way, so I’m just getting into the spirit!” Lavender laughed nervously. “Red and green, right?”
“Right,” I secretly thought it looked like a mop of…Weasley hair. Yet I kept that thought to myself and turned gingerly back to stare at my painting that stared back at me.
I dabbed my brush into the bottle of black paint again. One of the handy things of paint brushes bought in the wizarding world is that you don’t have to dip it into a bucket of water to clean it off from the last colour you used. It simply just…does it itself.
A stroke to the left…downwards, a bit over there. Hmmm…that looked a bit too neat to be his hair. Yes, another stroke to the right would balance it off.
I stepped back to examine my masterpiece. I had sketched the frame of his face with pencil first and then his hair had been done with a mixture of black paint and white to highlight a few places. I wasn’t that talented with paint, but I was happy with my painting so far.
I was contemplating whether or not to add that infamous scar or not when I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Hermione, that’s beautiful.”
“Thank you, professor,” I replied and glanced down at her hand. Hmm..her nails were awfully long and were starting to dig into my shoulder.
“It’s very…deep,” Professor Leo dropped her hand, I let out a breath. “His eyes…very charming, yet very mysterious, don’t you agree?”
“Mmm hmm,” I murmered as I sank into the intense gaze of the eyes that I had drawn. I felt a kind of faraway voice calling my name, but I wasn’t too sure. It didn’t matter did it? Nothing mattered, as long as I could continue staring into those eyes…
My eyes darted upwards to the curious gaze of Professor Leo. She smiled gently, “Daydreaming?”
“…Um, yes,” I answered quite sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I won’t do that again.”
“It’s perfectly alright,” She said. “Sometimes you might just get some inspiration within those watery thoughts.” She said calmly, showing her nice straight white teeth, a strange look in her glassy hazel eyes. She was probably one of the prettiest professors at Hogwarts, though her nose was a bit too pointy.
“Inspiration? Perhaps…” I replied, placing my brush into the black paint bottle again.
Professor Leo tilted her head, chestnut locks escaping from her lose bun. “Is there something on your mind?”
I blinked, “..No.”
She nodded slightly, an unreadable expression on her placid face. “Very well.” And she turned to walk off and inspect Lavender’s art.
I watched her go, her navy blue robes brushing the ground softly. I wonder what made her ask that..was anything on my mind? I wonder why I had said no. Well, what else could I have said? That I was having a strange relationship with one of the most famous wizards in the wizarding world? No, those weren’t things you normally told a teacher…and I wasn’t particularily close with Professor Leo.
I sighed, raising my brush to my canvas again. Strange, I felt awfully weird and away from my own body.
Is this what love is suppose to feel like?
It was one of those quiet Saturday afternoons where you have nothing to do. I had finished all my assignments last week, and I had nothing left to do. The sun was out, but it was still cold. So here I sit in the Great Hall picking at my lunch which only a quarter of has ended in my stomach so far.
“Hermione,” Someone whispered.
I looked up from my plate and saw Parvati pointing a finger at the Slytherin table. “Look.” She mouthed.
And so from there came Pansy Parkinson wearing her school uniform with her skirt hemmed up in an awfully short manner. She had a firey glint in her eyes as she took long strides over, her heels clicking on the cold marble floor. I assumed she was heading towards me.
“Granger,” She spat.
And I was correct. I tried a smile, but it failed miserably so I kept an expressionless face. “Hello to you too.”
“Oh stop acting so sweet,” She pointed a finger right between my eyes. Her fingernails were painted green. Ah, she had Slytherin spirit. “It’s been long enough hasn’t it?”
“What has?” I asked innocently, gently pushing her finger away from my face.
Pansy’s eyes went ablaze as she crouched over the table with narrowed eyes. “Well don’t you always know the answer? Smart, intelligent Hermione Granger isn’t it? You know what I mean, stop acting.”
“Well you could mean alot of things,” I replied dryly.
She stepped back and stood in her full height as if she were trying to tower over me. “You and my Harry.” She said shrilly.
I struggled to contain my laughter and succeeded by only snorting once. “Your Harry?” I blurted out.
“Yes, my Harry!” She said so loudly that everyone once again turned their attention to us. Why must I always be part of these situations? “At first, I thought perhaps it was a joke. Then two weeks went by, and I thought it was just a fling thing. You know, I thought Harry would just leave you by then, and then he didn’t!” She shrieked.
I looked at her with my chin resting in my palm. “Well, too bad for you.”
“Ooooh,” She had her fists clenched now. “So then I knew it must be you !” She had her finger in my face again. “I knew it must’ve been all your fault! You must’ve threatened him!”
“Threaten him?!” I thought this was a bit too ridiculous.
She nodded dumbly. “Yes! Threatened him! How else and why else would he stay by your side!” She looked at me from head to toe, or at least what she could see of me since I was sitting. “Hermione Granger, you’re not all that pretty, what does he see in you?” She rolled her eyes. “So yes, then I knew it must’ve been something you did to him. Threatened him or possibly used a spell!” She exclaimed wide-eyed.
I choked on my sandwich and burst out laughing, causing a bit of ham and cheese to find there way to Pansy’s face and hair. “Me threaten him! Use a spell?!” I stood up with a laugh. “You really are shallow Miss Parkinson.”
Pansy sneered, “Shallow? Me? What are you then?! Some whore that goes around stealing other people’s boyfriends!”
I was thinking up some other remark when someone wrapped their hands around my waist which caused me to nearly jump out of my skin. “Now, now, Pansy. Play nice.”
It was Harry. I smiled inwardly. Of course it would be Harry. Didn’t he always come to my rescue?
Pansy paled. “Harry! What are you doing?!” She was clearly commenting on the contact we were having.
“I’m sticking up for my girlfriend,” He answered plainly and sighed, “I really don’t understand you Pansy.”
“Of course you don’t,” She cried in that same shrill voice. “Because you never have time for me!”
Harry unwrapped his arms from my waist and came to stand beside me. I glanced at him. My pillar of support. “Pansy, must you always create such a scene?” Harry smirked. “Draco wouldn’t be too happy.”
Pansy fell silent very suddenly.
“You should be glad he’s not here, wouldn’t he be so hurt?” Harry sighed. “And wouldn’t he be extremely hurt if he found out that his girlfriend was thinking his best friend was her boyfriend?” He finished with a raised eyebrow. “Did you understand that?”
Pansy’s face contorted into a nasty look to a rather lost expression. “Well, you wouldn’t tell Draco..” She said shakily. “I mean, you wouldn’t do that to your best friend.”
Harry tapped his foot lightly on the floor. “Well, I don’t know…” He said with a strained look on his face. “I mean, since Draco is my best friend, then wouldn’t I tell him that his girlfriend was backstabbing him?”
The Slytherin girl glared, “Ooooh I really don’t understand why you’re with her, Harry! She’s not worth it! I love you! Not her! Since I can’t get you, I had to get second best!”
“…So that’s what I am to you?”
The cold drawling voice of Draco Malfoy cut through the silence like a knife. Everyone turned towards the doors of the Great Hall, in which Draco Malfoy was leaning on casually with a blank look on his pale and pointy face.
You could hear Pansy suck in a sharp breath of utter surprise, I pitied the girl. “Draco!”
He smirked and stood up straighter, taking long strides across the room towards where we stood. “Pity our relationship couldn’t last,” He said steadily, his steel grey eyes fixed on Pansy’s deep green ones without blinking.
“But Draco honey,” She reached towards him with a shaking hand which Draco simply caught between his own hand.
“Don’t touch me,” He spat and roughly pushed her arm aside. Pansy let out a strangled sob, flashing an angry look at Harry at the same time. “It’s all your fault!”
I rolled my eyes, my patience running dry. “Is that all you can say?”
Pansy stomped her foot hard, making me wonder if her heel would snap or not. With that, she turned her head and stomped off without another word and struggling to keep her head high. I shook my head and glanced back at Harry to Draco who still had that blank look on his face.
Harry opened his mouth to speak but Draco held up a hand and smirked, “Don’t apologize Potter. Wasn’t your fault was it? Parkinson’s got problems, that part’s clear.” He shrugged. “Back to Blaise,” He winked and walked off.
I stared while Harry placed both of his wide hands on my shoulder. “Let’s go.”
I nodded numbly, replaying the events that I just happened in such a short time. “Where are we going?” I asked once we were outside and away from the murmuring crowds.
“I was thinking we could go to my room,” He replied lightly.
My stomach gave a lurch. The room. His room. Didn’t rooms always mean something? I shook my head. Silly silly thoughts. Bad bad thoughts. I swallowed hard as he turned his head, a soft smile on his face. “Are you alright?”
“Of course,” I replied with a meek smile.
We proceeded down the corridors of the dungeon. I had never been to the Slytherin Common Room…but then again, I wouldn’t be going there. Harry was a prefect and prefects got their own rooms didn’t they?
“We’re here,” He announced as we stopped in front of a nice flat wall of brick. “It’s a bit damp, but the dungeons are always like this.”
“Oh,” I wished I could say something smarter but at the present moment I couldn’t really think.
“Hermione,” He spoke.
I thought he was calling me so I turned to look at him curiously, but when the stones shifted away and melted into each other to form an archway, I knew that it was actually the password to his room. I stared. “My name is your password?”
“I guess so,” He answered as we entered his room.
Rooms were suppose to tell you something about the person living in it. Well, that’s what I had come to learn from the past. Yet if you were just a person walking into this room, you would think the person living here was a depressing bloke.
Of course, the room was green. The curtains were all drawn shut, and the curtains were of a deep forest green. It was rather stuffy, but not as stuffy as Trelawney’s classroom (though I’ve only been up there once when I had a tour of the school). The carpet was (surprise, surprise!) green. The walls were that deep forest green again, so deep it looked black.
There was a fireplace, though no fire flickered. Surrounding the fireplace was a set of lounge chairs, very much like the ones in Gryffindor but they were green with silver snakes crawling up from the legs of the chairs. I didn’t know how I could see all this with no light coming from outside, but then I realized there were candles.
Not just one, but many. Dozens of candles aligned on the chestnut bookshelves along the far left wall. A queen sized bed with hanging forest green tapestries was set in between two long windows that stretched from the bottom of the wall to the top (curtains drawn). Two nightstands stood on opposite sides of the bed, with candles once again ontop.
Yet in the centre of the room was a medium sized round table. At first I had thought another big candle sat ontop of it, and yet it was not. I soon came to realize it was actually something of a pot of some sort with wispy smoke coming out from it..seemingly making it glow. This in fact- was a pensieve.
I had read about them in many books but they were said to be very complicated to make. I glanced at Harry curiously but he didn’t seem to notice for he was walking up to the table already and drawing another wispy silver strand from his forehead and into the watery depths.
I watched in amazement as he stood back, simply looking into the pensieve. I was curious to know, but knew that it was wrong to ask or take a peek into his deepest thoughts.
“This is my pensieve,” He suddenly spoke up.
“I figured that part out,” I answered.
Harry sat down on one of the squashy chairs, staring into the empty fireplace. He snapped his fingers and a burst of green flames erupted from the ashes. I jumped slightly, not feeling any warmth coming from the fire.
“Come and sit, ‘Mione.”
I walked over towards the chairs and sat down on one next to him. Even though I was so much closer to the fire now, I still felt nothing. “Why don’t you let some sunlight in?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself.
“Do you not like it this way?” He asked in a whisper.
I shuddered, not really knowing why. “Well…it’s your room. But perhaps some sunlight would do some good.”
“Hmm..really?” He snapped his fingers away and the curtains pulled apart.
It made no difference.
No sunlight came streaming into the room. No sunlight came and blinded my eyes. It was still as dark as before. I suddenly realized that his windows didn’t face the sun, but the thick woods of the Forbidden Forest. A tall tree grew right outside one of the windows and blocked any ray of light that could find its way there. How depressing..
“Nevermind then,” I said.
Harry smiled, “You’ll get use to it.”
I tucked a strand of lose hair behind my ear, feeling the silence creep up my arms and legs. “Do you love me, ‘Mione?” He broke the ice again.
“..Why are you asking me that, Harry?”
“Just a question.” He answered, wrapping his fingers around mine.
I felt my head drop to rest on his shoulder. “…I do love you.” I felt my voice answer lightly.
He rested his head ontop of mine, a bit of his hair tickling my ear. “I love you too ‘Mione.”
“Mmm…” I felt him shift beneath me and somehow I found his lips on mine. My lips were still dry, I could feel them brushing roughly on the surface of Harry’s lips. His kiss was gentle at first, then all of sudden intense and it was hard to breath. And then he stopped and turned his head to look at the fire again. I caught my breath.
“I don’t like Justin.”
“I know that..”
“I don’t like the Patil twins,” Harry murmured into my ear, holding me close to him now. “I don’t like the Weasleys. I don’t like Longbottom either.”
I felt my brow scrunch up in confusion, my face pressed up on his chest. “Then who do you like?”
“Only you ‘Mione,” He answered, his breath a nice minty smell. “Would you be able to survive in only a world of you and me?”
The question seemed so simple. Like a question a five year old would ask. So naive. So innocent. But it was so hard to answer in this atmosphere. I felt his arms tighten around my body which felt so small now against his muscular frame. “Would you, ‘Mione?”
I breathed. “I don’t know,” I answered truthfully, “it’s hard to imagine.”
“Of course it is..” He said. “But I can make it possible. Would you like that ‘Mione?”
“…Only you and me?’
“Mm hmm,” He whispered. “Only you and me…no frustrations…no pain…no hurt when it’s just you and me. Wouldn’t that be bliss, ‘Mione?”
“It’d be so…lonely.”
His lips brushed against my forehead. “But you’d get use to it. You’re everything important to me. I only need you and I can do anything.”
My heart fluttered at his gentle words. Such entracing words that seemed to lace themselves into me. Inside of me. They weren’t just simple words, they were spellbounding. They made me float, made my stomach set lose on butterflies.
“But how can it be possible? There’s so many more people out there in the world…we can’t be the only ones on earth.”
“Of course not,” He chuckled. “But we can imagine. Imagine a place where there’s only me and you. Or..you could stay away from those people.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What people?”
“…Oh, Lavender…and Parvati,” He answered. “They aren’t important. They’re nothing but people that are clearly jealous. They’ll hurt you ‘Mione.” His voice dropped softly. My ears tingled.
“Hurt me?” I blinked in confusion. “Well, I know Lav is a bit…jealous but Parvati’s alright…”
“They’re acting,” He murmured in disdain. “Nothing but an act. Someday they’ll strike you in the back and you wouldn’t even know it…it’s always like that. Sometimes I wonder why we make friends. They do nothing but backstab you, or something of that sort. What’s the good of it all?”
I shivered at the bitterness in his voice. “But friends are there for you…”
“Only you’re here for me, ‘Mione..” Harry said. “They’re all just wanting something from you…it’s never out of just pure kindness. When you have it all, they all suck up to you. When you lose it all, they flee like mice from a cat.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that. And they just leave you to face the danger and when you finally win- they come back expecting you to accept them.” He shook his head. “It’s a sad world.”
I took in his words slowly. Understanding what he meant…but at the same time my own thoughts seemed duller. Unclear. Friends were important weren’t they? But Harry was too…what to do now? Was this a decision I had to make? “So to sum it all up..” I began hesitantly. “You want me to drop all my friends?”
“..Are they your friends?” Harry questioned, he had his left hand in my hair now. Running his smooth fingers over my hair. “Once they heard that you were with me, they all ran didn’t they? You had to do something extraordinary to get them all back to you, didn’t you? Are true friends like that?”
It dawned on me..that this was true. They had all turned on me…all wore Millicent’s buttons and flashed it in my face like it was nothing. But Ginny came back…didn’t she? But not until I blew up in front of the whole school…my so called “act of bravery”. I sucked in a shaky breath and Harry just held me close. “It’s alright ‘Mione..the truth is harsh..but I’m here for you.”
I fell deeper into his embrace, into his arms, and into his scent. Into his aspect of life. I breathed in his air. Breathed in his scent. Everything was Harry. Harry was there for me. And that was enough. Wasn’t it?
“I had to go through reality alone..” He said in a dazed tone. “No one was there for me. Those that were there..died. I don’t understand it. If it was my fault or not.” He seemed to think I understood what he was saying, yet I didn’t, but I felt like I should listen. “Everyone sees me as…Harry Potter. No one sees me…as me. I’m like an object. Not a person. People want to know me, want to shake my hand. What ever for? To get something from me. Knowledge. Power. And they never see me as person..”
He said this all softly, yet quickly. “Only you do, ‘Mione. Right? You wouldn’t use me as a tool, like so many have tried. So what if I defeated Voldemort? It was destiny. My destiny. Was it a choice? Was it a choice to have all this unwanted fame? Fame is nothing but an accessory you wear. Sure, it looks pretty, but in the end, what do you gain from it?”
“You know what ‘Mione?”
“I’ve never said so much to anyone before..” He dropped his arms and I suddenly felt naked, use to the pressure of his arms around me. He suddenly shoke. I glanced up at him. He looked scared.
He stood up and crossed the room, towards his pensieve and drew out another thought. “I know it’s ok to tell you though, ‘Mione. Because you wouldn’t turn on me. You’re different. You’re special…” He muttered with a faraway look in his bright green eyes.
I stood up and joined him by his pensieve, brought my arms around him. He was so mature for his age. Gone through so much in such a short time. His destiny had began when he was an enfant…he had seen things you wouldn’t normally see. And he was so insecure…
“You act as if I’d fly away or something,” I teased, leaning my cheek against his back. He was tall…a head taller than me.
He didn’t turn around but reached for my hands and covered them with his own. “But you won’t.”
“…Of course I won’t.” I replied.
And something just came clear in my mind. That I had to stay with Harry. I wanted to wash away the insecurity he had in life. I wanted to bring him the sunlight that he didn’t have. I wanted to care and love him. I wanted to be with him from now on and walk with him down the spiraling road of life.
Harry Potter had no day in his life. Only the cloak of night and the darkness it brought, and only the eerie light of the moon that was his source of light.
Yet I hadn’t been so sure of anything until now. I was determined to bring him back the sun.