He didn't want to leave.
He absently said goodnight to Sirius and made his way up to his bedroom, heading into the bathroom to strip and shower. Standing under the water, his thoughts returned to his previous musing.
Harry knew if he said something to Sirius, it was likely that Sirius would quite happily keep him at home. Sirius had only agreed to send Harry back to Hogwarts because Harry said he wanted to go back. Of course that had been at the start of the Summer when Harry had never considered the possibility of not wanting to go back to Hogwarts.
And in some ways he did want to go back. He loved Hogwarts for the most part even if the last three years had disillusioned him as to the safety of the school. It had still been a retreat and escape from the Dursleys. It was still the first place he had considered home.
His friends were going back.
That probably more than anything was the reason why he hadn't said anything to Sirius. He would miss his friends if he stayed since he wouldn't have their presence in his lessons, although he half-suspected that if he pulled out of Hogwarts to be home-schooled, Augusta would pull Neville at the same time but that wouldn't be fair to Neville who was looking forward to going back to Hogwarts.
Neville's confidence had grown leaps and bounds over the Summer and Harry believed he deserved to have a chance to show off his new skill and new attitude at Hogwarts where he had been made to feel like a squib and an outcast. He'd also noted that since the Talk They Never Mentioned, Neville had actually spent a bit more time paying attention to Susan and Hannah – Hannah who seemed to really like Neville.
Harry had to admit that between the Talk, he kind of thought that he might want to go out with someone. Maybe. Possibly. But he was rather hampered by all the things he and Hermione had discussed at the beginning of the Summer. He wanted to go out with someone who liked him not the Boy Who Lived or whatever fantasy Harry Potter they'd made up in their heads.
Ginny still fell under that category as far as Harry was concerned although she had started talking to him fairly normally during the dinners at the Weasleys since they'd commiserated over Skele-gro and discussed the possibility of her trying out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Lydia Inglebee also had Fantasy Harry Syndrome. The rest of the girls in the Potter alliance were all too much like acquaintances with perhaps the exception of Susan Bones.
Susan was great. She was kind and compassionate. She hated Potions as much as Harry did and she had a keen mind and sharp tongue that reminded Harry of her Aunt. They had gotten along fine in the lessons, outings and events they'd attended together. But the truth was that although he liked her as a person and thought she might like him as Harry, he wasn't attracted to Susan. She was nice enough just…he couldn't see himself wanting to kiss her anytime soon. And since she generally talked about Cedric Diggory in dreamy tones, Harry rather thought she didn't want to kiss Harry anytime soon either.
Which brought him to the one other girl he knew well: Hermione.
He blushed and ducked his head, snapping the water off and getting out of the shower. He concentrated on drying off but his mind wandered back to his female best friend with alacrity.
It wasn't that he hadn't considered Hermione as a potential girlfriend when the topic had arisen at the start of the Summer but she was his friend and it was important to Harry that she stay his friend. He'd never had friends before Ron and Hermione, and he'd almost lost Hermione over the Firebolt thing and that had convinced him that he didn't want to lose her friendship ever. It was one of the reasons why he'd worked so hard to strengthen their friendship that Summer; to take more of an interest in stuff Hermione was interested in, to pay equal attention to her as he did to Ron. And it had worked thanks in part to Hermione's inclusion in his lessons and her sponsorship under the House of Black.
But all the extra time with her and driven home to him that she was a girl. A girl he might even like like; one that he could imagine kissing. And the bonus was that she knew him, the real him.
Harry threw his towel in the laundry fitfully and hurried into his bedroom to pull on his pyjamas and get into bed. He switched the lamp off and snuggled under the duvet.
The problem was while he realised he might like Hermione enough for him to consider her as a potential girlfriend, he really had no idea how she felt about him. He didn't think she thought about Harry as a potential boyfriend. And why would she, Harry thought morosely. Maybe knowing the real him meant knowing he wasn't anything special. Intellectually, he definitely wasn't Hermione's equal although he thought she approved of his new studying habits. Physically, he was small – one of the smallest boys in his year – and although his exercise regime meant that he was muscled, he had a runner's build rather than a boxer's. His appearance had improved with new clothes and glasses, but he still wore glasses and had the disfiguring scar. His hair was always a mess…
He sighed and turned over, pressing his face into the pillow.
Even if Hermione did like him or would consider going out with him, could he afford to have a girlfriend? Merlin, he was getting death threats. And there was the Treasure Hunt…and overshadowing everything was the prophecy and an eventual showdown with Voldemort. If he and Hermione dated, he would be putting her at risk and…
His whole body tensed at the thought of her being in danger because of him.
Well, any more danger since it was dangerous enough being Harry Potter's friend.
He turned over again, restless and sat up abruptly, reaching for the light.
For a long moment, he stared at the wall opposite before he shook himself and decided to practise his animagus meditation. He had read everything about how to achieve the meditative state required to see his potential forms but he hadn't tried it before and his Aunt Minerva had said that it could take weeks or months before it happened. He rearranged his position, shifting into a cross-legged but comfortable pose, using the breathing techniques he'd learned in his Occlumency training to relax and sink into a meditative state…
Slowly his awareness of the room around him disappeared and he found himself floating in a white cloud of endless space; his body weightless as his mind drifted…
There was something flying up ahead.
A dark speck on the horizon and Harry willed himself to follow it, flying freely, the wind blowing through his hair and across his skin. The speck turned into a bird – a raven, Harry realised. They played for a while dipping and diving before the raven flew downwards towards a clearing. It landed on a rock and Harry suddenly found himself on the ground.
"Hello, Raven." Harry said nervously. Was he supposed to talk to his animagus form? Was this his only one? Was it actually one of his forms or just something stuck in his head because of Luna?
The raven cocked its head to one side and peered at him.
.
.
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