Saturday 25th July 1985.
"I'm worried about Harry."
The other figures in the painting stopped their game and all glanced up at Lily as she stared beyond the frame. Harry was curled up in the corner of the library with a book dangling perilously from his fingers as gravity sought to claim it for its own. The house-elves had draped a light blanket over him and left him to slumber there at the instruction of those in the painting.
James glanced at the boy sleeping in confusion, "what do you mean, love? He's fine."
"Not the sleeping in the library, the boy has proven it to be his favourite room in the whole building." James shook his head, mildly ashamed that Harry would sooner sit in here and read than learn to fly. "I'm worried about friends."
"Friends, dear?" James's grandfather asked, shuffling the cards on the table.
"Harry has none," Lily replied. "Well; none that aren't house-elves."
"He'll have plenty of time for friends at Hogwarts, Lil. Don't fret about it."
Lily stared back out into the real world, watching the gentle rising and falling of Harry's chest for the next several minutes. She felt a sickness at the thought of her boy spending the next several years cooped up in this house.
As it was, they practically had to bribe the boy to go out and play. If left to his own devices he'd have read every book in the house by now.
"What about studies? We can only teach him so much."
James looked back at his wife, "he's a smart boy, Lily. He's like a sponge for knowledge, just sucks it all up."
"You could always have some of the other youngins come to visit him from time to time. Does well for a lad to get out and about. See the sun, feel the fresh air." One of the Potter ancestors claimed, blowing a particularly thick cloud of cigar smoke over the table.
"Be hard to keep knowledge of the boy quiet if you invite half the magical world to visit. Word will spread quickly once they realise he is alive." Another interjected.
"Best to keep him safe here where no one can find him. Too much danger for the wee boy out in the world. The elves can only protect him so much." A third ancient figure said, nodding to themselves as if that sorted matters.
Lily watched the sleeping boy for several minutes. The others were right, the world outside was far too dangerous for him at the moment. The letters they had received from Gringotts showed there were many out there trying their hardest to get their hands on the Potter Estate, and if they found Harry they could force him to hand it over. Or worse.
And he was learning a lot here with them. Every day he would be up bright and early, fed and ready sitting in front of them here in the library before most of those in the portraits had awakened. Most of them having been painted far later in life than she and James had.
And James was right, Harry absorbed information like a sponge. He was a delight to teach and was always asking questions about one thing or another. He'd almost learned everything they had to teach him about his place in the family and his future responsibilities to the Estate as the sole Heir.
Lily was sure the boy was only just short of having an eidetic memory. He devoured every morsel of information like it would be his last. Yet could recite it all back to you as if he'd only just read it moments ago.
This, too, worried her. It was important to be keen on your studies, but it had almost become Harry's entire life and that wasn't normal for a boy of his age. And that spurred a new thought in her mind. The magical world was indeed unsafe for him.
"He'll be five in a few days. He's the right age, James." Lily said, sliding her arms around her husband.
"The right age for what?"
"School."
"He can't start at Hogwarts until he's eleven, dear. You know the rules."
"Muggle school, James. He can learn and be with kids of his own age. No one from the magical world will be there to see him and spread rumours. He'll be safe," she looked down at the boy once more, "and happy."
"I don't know sweetheart. The Muggle world can be a dangerous place. We can't protect him outside the Manor. The magic protecting this place is beyond anyone's understanding. No one is breaking in here to get at him. I wish we hadn't left in the first place." James whispered as he trailed off. Clearly not wanting to mention it had been her idea to leave last time.
"I know that. I regret my mistake more than you can imagine." She replied, offering a silencing hand when James made to rebut her. "And I know that when they married into your family, the Peverells took this place off the map more than just figuratively. I remember the day you first took me for a walk in the grounds and we walked a dead straight line from the house until we hit the other side of it again.
"I always wanted to research those wards. To figure out how they worked. It's like they ripped the whole area out of the world and stuck it in its own little bubble. One I should have trusted then. But now Harry is trapped alone in that bubble. There is so much he will miss out on, I can't bear to steal this from him as well."
"What about his lessons with us? He's learning quickly, but there is still so much to go over. The family histories, and his place in the wider world. He'll be famous just for his last name, not to mention the fact he'll be coming back from the dead."
"I'm not talking about boarding school, James. We send him to state school during the day, so he comes back to us each night. Those are the type of children he needs to be around anyway. He'll meet enough of the snobs when he goes to Hogwarts."
James leant back in his chair staring up into Lily's eyes, he could see the concern etched on her face and smiled to himself.
"Why do I argue with the smartest woman I know?" He pulled her lips down and kissed her softly. "If you think we should send him, we send him. Mipsy loves that boy just as much as we do, I'm sure she can watch over him at school without a fuss."
Lily may have blamed herself for her refusal to use the Manor as their hideout when Voldemort was searching for them. But she was extremely grateful to her past self for having registered Harry in the muggle system at his birth.
Even though she knew he was going to be a powerfully magical child. She just could not bring herself to entirely abandon her heritage. No matter how cruel her sister had become over the years, there were still many incredible things about the world she had first grown up in.
That foresight would serve them now by providing the necessary paperwork to register Harry into the school system. Just as it had gotten him a couple of early vaccinations. Even if James had assured her that magical folk never fell sick to those muggle diseases. It brought her simple peace of mind to know he was protected.
A wide smile broke over Lily's face. "Thank you. It will bring a little peace to my heart. I'll help Pops prepare the documentation he'll need. He can... pretend to be our butler or something for the meetings. People will still ask questions, but we'll hardly be the first 'absent parents' sending their kids off and never checking up. As sad as that is."
Pops's interesting ability was another subject Lily had once intended to investigate. That elder house-elves developed a magic that allowed them to take on new forms. Almost like a metamorphmagus.
James had somehow convinced Pops to use the ability in order to trick her for an evening, and she smiled at the memory. Before she then sighed at yet another thing she would never hope to achieve anymore.
The remaining Potters just shook their heads at their whipped descendant and dealt out the next hand. Harry softly slumbering away beneath them, completely unaware.
ϟ
Monday 2nd September 1985.
"Master, Harry! Please don't run in the house!"
Harry ignored the wizened elf as he tore into the study and plonked himself on the chair facing the currently empty portrait. He shook with anticipation, rocking on the very lip of the chair as he waited for his mother to appear. He knew he didn't have long, but he refused to go without seeing her first.
"Harry," her disapproving voice came a moment before she entered the frame, "you need to listen to Pops. You'll be the end of him if you keep driving him mad like that."
The smile she wore as she spoke took most of the sting from her reprimand. But Harry still felt bad. He never liked being told off by his mother. Not because he didn't like the talking to, that he never minded so much. It was the fact that afterwards, she could never wrap her arms around him and make him feel better.
Words were all they had to comfort him, and it was never the same. The only hugs he'd ever had were from Mipsy. None of the other elves felt it was appropriate to hug their Master.
Though he was very young at the time, Harry could still remember the feeling of being in his mother's arms. Of the warmth and security, he felt wrapped up in her. It was the thing he missed the most since that horrid night.
"Sorry, mum." Harry dipped his head as he spoke, the feelings of loss overwhelming him as his memory took a turn to its darkest reach.
"Harry, look at me, sweetie."
His eyes raised to meet with her own. His near-perfect recall was a double-edged sword for Harry. He could remember all his lessons with perfect clarity. Recall any book he'd ever read with minimal effort.
But he could also remember the pure perfect shine of his mother's eyes, and he knew not one of the paintings in the house, no matter the canvas or paint used, could ever properly convey them. He missed the fine details of his parents that were lost now to all but memory, and tears began to slip down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry I can't be there now to hold you, love. You didn't deserve this fate. We do all we can to protect you from the dangers out there, we often forget about the ones in here. I know that you miss your father and I."
Harry nodded as she spoke, giving voice to the feelings he never did. He wanted to be their strong little boy. Never their soldier. Harry had used that term once after finding it in one of his storybooks and James had reprimanded him fiercely. They never wanted him to be a soldier.
"Come on, Harry. Aren't you at least a little bit excited?"
Looking back up at his mother Harry could see the love in her eyes. But also, the trepidation. This would be the longest he had ever been away from her since the night they died. At first, he'd thought he had done something wrong when his mother suggested it. That they were sending him away.
It had been a long and emotional discussion. Harry had begged them not to send him away, promised to be a better son, to do anything they asked. Lily had to call Mipsy to hold him as they explained their reasons.
This was not a punishment, but a reward. He knew there were still a lot of things to learn about his responsibilities and the magical world he would rejoin one day, but he knew there was something else he was missing. As much as he loved his family and the elves who were raising him, something else called at the edge of his soul.
A dull throbbing ache that would never go away. Never getting stronger or weaker, just there. His mother had explained friends to him and while confused by the concept, he was also excited to meet these friends.
Lily was still watching him closely as these thoughts whipped back and forth through his mind. The troubles were ebbing away, and the excitement was building once more, and his eyes began to take on the glow he had once seen in his mother's. She smiled at him as he wiped the tears aside and smiled at her.
"Yes, mum. I'll make you and Dad proud."
Lily's smile grew even wider. "That's wonderful, darling, but you already make me so proud. What I want you to focus on today is making you happy. It might be frightening at first, but I know you will make some really strong friends. Just remember, it might not happen right away."
Harry looked a little frightened at the idea of being away from home and without friends for a long time. How long would it take for them to like him?
"Be calm, Harry," Lily called, drawing his eyes. "How do you feel right now?"
"Scared, but excited. What if they don't like me, mum?"
"That, Harry, is how every one of them is feeling right now." Harry's gaze went wide as he contemplated his mother's words. "They want to make friends just as much as you, but they are worried they won't be liked either. All you have to do is be yourself, and the friends will find you."
A feeling of purpose rose within Harry's chest. He would make friends. He would make his family proud of him. He would make the best friends anyone had ever seen. Determination settled on his face as Lily laughed gently at her boy.
"Now are you sure we have everything? You can't be expecting Mipsy to pop back and forth because you forgot your pencil case or lunch!"
Harry tapped the backpack he wore and grinned. "I checked it three times this morning. All there." A proud grin spread across his face.
"Then come here and give mummy a kiss goodbye."
This was the reason for their discussions in this room. The picture in the study was almost touching the floor and was the only one in the house where Harry could stand at face height with his parents without them lying on the floor of the painting.
Lily leant down so the wee boy could press his lips to the slightly raised portion of canvas that was her cheek. Neither one could feel the warmth of the other, but the motion, in itself, brought some small form of pleasure.
"I love you, mummy. I'll make you so proud."
"I know you will baby, now take Mipsy's hand and remember, you're there to have fun."
Harry nodded vigorously as he took the elf's hand. She nodded to her mistress and with a loud pop, Harry left the house for the first time since 1981.
ϟ
Friday 10th January 1986.
Harry sighed as he ate the delicious sandwich that Pops had prepared for him.
His legs swung to and fro beneath the bench as he sat and watched the other children running about on the playground. He felt the pull to climb on the equipment with them, but something was holding him back.
Despite his talk with his mother on his first day, he still felt trepidation at the idea of talking to the strange children. Even though he'd known them for several months now, none of the ones playing in the playground had connected with him as he had hoped.
Not for lack of trying either. Harry had talked with every one of them, at least eight or nine times. While some were nice and talked happily back, none gave him the feeling that they were his friends. They still tended to gather with the same small groups of people every time they went for recess. Groups that never seemed to include him.
And for some strange reason, Harry could not understand, his performance in the classroom actually made some of the children seem angry with him.
Eagerness to learn had always been encouraged in his studies at home. When he learned something new, his entire family would praise his achievements. They even arranged a small party the day he had been able to recite the entire Statute of Secrecy to them, amendments and all. Knowledge was his first friend and he loved learning.
School life was so different from home. There, his entire family would be focused entirely on him. It was almost as if they had no other life outside of Harry. But here, he was just one of hundreds of students. And while the teachers here seemed happy when he provided answers in class, they never focused on him the way his family had. Their attention tended to go to other students in the class instead. On anyone who was struggling with their work.
And those other children seemed to resent his knowledge. Only one other child in the class seemed to enjoy learning as much as he had, but he could never find her at playtime to talk.
She would disappear out the door before he could catch up and by the time he reached the playground she was gone. Harry was becoming frustrated with his inability to make friends. He could learn anything, why could he not succeed at this? How hard could it be to make friends?
"Oi, Scarface."
Harry closed his eyes as he downed the last portion of his sandwich. While he was still having trouble making friends, it seemed the opposite took care of itself.
"Yes, Thomas?" Harry turned to the third-year boy towering over him, thanks to being almost twice Harry's age.
"What you bring me for lunch today, eh?"
It had been slow at first, but after news of Harry's intelligence spread, Thomas had made it his mission to knock the know-it-all down a few pegs. He'd been roughing Harry up every day for the past couple of months, but Harry never gave him the satisfaction of reacting.
"Sorry," Harry shrugged, "I'm afraid I've already eaten it, but if you like I can bring some more to share with you tomorrow."
Harry knew it was not why the older boy was asking, but he knew that playing along usually meant a shorter encounter. The bully clearly didn't like his lack of reaction but was determined to teach him who was in charge around here.
"You little pig. Hope you left some room for more."
Thomas grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him to the nearby sandpit before grabbing a handful of sand and attempting to force it into Harry's mouth. Knowing he was weaker than the tall boy, Harry did not try to pull free of his grip, that would only result in bruises which his parents would ask about. Harry was determined to resolve this himself. He would not go crying to his mother as Thomas liked to taunt many of the children.
Though, most importantly, Harry forced himself to hold his emotions in check. He was still barely able to consciously feel his magic, much less control it. The few occasions where it had gotten out of control at home had been interesting, to say the least. Here, the need was far greater.
His parents had impressed on him the importance of remaining hidden from magical folk for the time being. An accidental magic incident at the school would surely see people from the Ministry attending to investigate.
"THOMAS MITCHELL! You let Mr Potter go this instant."
Harry grinned slightly through sandy lips as his teacher stormed across the yard. This was how most encounters ended. He knew fighting back would only get him in trouble, so Harry let the scenario play out, knowing the teachers at this school were very prompt in reacting to the bullying. At least in his experience.
He suspected Mipsy had a hand in drawing their attention whenever something happened to him. He knew the little elf was watching somewhere nearby, but he had forbidden her from personally interfering. As with his own accidental magic, elf magic in a playground was a recipe for the disaster his parents seemed so worried about.
Thomas released Harry and quickly dusted the sand off his hands behind his back. Mrs Grevillea towered over them both as she arrived and looked down at the taller boy.
"What exactly do you think you were doing?" She asked the older boy.
"Harry fell into the sandpit, Miss. I was only helping him up." Thomas smiled his I-did-nothing grin.
Harry giggled at the foolishness of it, as there was no sand anywhere but his face, but did not contradict the boy. That would only lead to more attacks. He could handle what was happening. He was no coward and he would not ask the teachers to fight his battles for him.
Mrs Grevillea stared at the boy, the look on her face conveying she clearly did not believe a word of the story. She glanced at Harry and merely raised an eyebrow, requesting his version of events.
"It was nice of him to help like that, Miss." Harry smiled, dusting the sand from his lips.
She stared down at them both before asking Thomas to accompany her back inside. Neither boy said a word to one another as they went their separate ways.
"Why don't you stand up to him?" A timid voice called as Harry reached his bench once more.
He spun about to see the young girl standing behind him. It was the girl he most wanted to be friends with. His eyes raked over her, taking in her messy hair much like his own. A smile spread across his face as he saw the curiosity and fear in her brown eyes.
"He'll only get worse if I do. Same if I were to tell on him." Harry shrugged, "I can handle a bully."
Harry didn't mention the fact he worried about becoming a jerk like that too. He had heard several stories of the things his father and his friends had done during their time at Hogwarts. And he didn't like the idea of hurting others for amusement. So he tried to avoid getting into confrontations at all.
The girl looked terrified at the idea of standing up to Thomas. Her eyes kept flicking to the tall boy as he walked away.
"Why? Does he do that to you too?"
She just nodded vigorously as her eyes met his again. Anger built in Harry at the boy for the first time. He knew that he could take the punishment, but the girl in front of him looked afraid. As though even this conversation might bring the wrath of the lanky third-year down upon her.
"It's why I always spend playtime in the library. He never thinks to look in there." Harry giggled at the thought, causing the girl to look at him oddly. "How exactly is that funny?" Small tears grew in the corner of her eyes.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's him. I imagine he's allergic to books, like vampires to garlic. He'd probably burst into flames if he ever set foot in a library." Harry chuckled.
The tears ceased and a wide smile broke across the girl's face at the thought. "Probably." She giggled.
The sound filled Harry with happiness as he saw the change come over her. "I'm Harry, by the way. Harry Potter."
He extended his hand to the girl who watched it closely as it approached, as though afraid of it. A small finger of anger leapt through Harry again as he wondered exactly what Thomas had done to the poor girl to make her so afraid of a handshake. He smiled broadly and held his hand perfectly still, letting the girl make the decision to take it or not.
She looked back and forth from his hand to his eyes, clutching the book in her arms tightly as she did. He could see the indecision and fear warring behind her eyes with something else, something he didn't recognise.
Very slowly, she reached from the book and took his hand. Harry beamed as they gently shook, surprised at the soft feel of the girl's skin compared to the House Elves. Their skin felt almost leathery, but hers was smooth and warm. He very much liked the feel of it.
"I'm Hermione Granger." She replied, her voice cracking softly.
"Nice to meet you, Hermione Granger. Would you like to be friends?"
A new war began in her chocolate eyes as she studied him closely, not letting go of his hand. Harry had the odd feeling that he was hooked up to a lie detector and she was searching his grip and eyes for any sign he was trying to hurt her. He simply continued to smile at her as he watched the thoughts flitting through her mind.
"Yes." She finally said, giving his hand one last shake before breaking contact and hugging her book tightly once more.
"Brilliant," Harry beamed, "Can I join you in the library for lunch tomorrow? I'd go today, but I'm already finished."
The bell rang loudly across the yard and the children all groaned and headed back inside. Hermione remained frozen for a moment, looking at Harry's face.
"Yes." She replied, before quickly turning and rushing back into the classroom.
Harry gathered his things with a broad grin. The tugging feeling he'd had for years had finally settled. He had made a friend.
ϟ
"MUM!" Harry yelled as he dashed through the hallways.
He was ever so eager to tell her about his day. After returning to class he had found a space free next to Hermione and he had quickly taken it. The girl had looked at him, a hint of suspicion still present in her gaze, but it had quickly vanished as they had worked diligently side by side for the rest of the day.
She had looked into his eyes as they gathered their things and prepared to leave for the day. Wishing him a good day, she quickly dashed from the room, a slight pink colour on her cheeks as she disappeared.
"Mummy, where are you?"
Harry tore back and forth, up and down the corridors passing many portraits all with his ancestors watching as he darted about.
"For goodness sake, James, how can you manage to pull pranks in a portrait?"
Harry grinned as he heard his mother yelling at his father from the room at the end of the hall. He ran quickly through the door and his eyes fell on one of the smallest paintings in the house. It was full of horrid-looking green smoke, that Harry had a distinct impression did not smell very good at all.
"Mum, Dad. I have to talk to you!" Harry shouted at the small picture.
"Oh Harry, darling. Welcome home. Meet me in the study, sweetie. We do not want to be in here right now."
Harry could not see either figure in the painting but knew the look his mother was giving his father right now. And he could picture the grin that would adorn his father's face in response. He quickly made his way to the study and dragged one of the heavy chairs, so it would be right in front of the frame and sat. He was so excited to tell them of his day, that he hadn't even shed his school bag, which was still perched on his back.
He was practically bouncing in place as his parents walked into the frame, Lily waving her hands about as though trying to clear the air. James wore the very grin Harry had imagined as they both caught sight of him eagerly waiting.
"Hello, Harry," his father greeted, "how was school?"
Harry rocked forward on the chair and rushed headlong into a detailed account of his day, from their quiz in the morning classes to the new subjects they'd brought up. But the most detailed of all was the end of his lunch break. He had forgotten one thing in his excitement and haste to tell them of his new friend.
"What do you mean, Harry? How long has this Thomas boy been picking on you?" His mother asked, a severe look on her face.
Harry mentally kicked himself as he realised he had never told his parents about the bullying. He wanted to be their strong boy and deal with the problem himself. He'd even asked Mipsy not to tell them, but as he wasn't of age, he technically wasn't her true Master. His parents could override his instructions. All of this must have shown on his face because his mother immediately called for the elf.
"Mipsy, what has been going on? You are supposed to be protecting Harry!" James roared.
"Please don't yell at Mipsy, Dad. It's my fault."
"No young Master, Mipsy is being a bad elf."
"No, you did exactly as I asked you to."
"You did what now, Harry?" his father interrupted again.
Harry looked up at his parents with trepidation. "I knew you asked Mipsy to keep me safe. But I know the Statute. If she does something magic to protect me, we all get in trouble. So, I asked her not to interfere. But I know she still does, don't you?"
Mipsy looked bashful as Harry stared at her, pleadingly. "Yes, Master. I cannot go against your orders, but you left a loophole Mipsy could use."
"You make the teachers notice, don't you?" Mipsy nodded and hung her head, awaiting punishment for going against orders. "Thank you. I thought you did."
Mipsy's head shot up as she caught her master's gaze. He was smiling fondly at her and popped off the chair to hug her tightly. He had grown a lot in the years she had been watching him and while they once were the same height during these hugs, he now was much taller than her.
Lily watched the interaction in silence, thinking about whether to reprimand Harry. "Harry, why didn't you tell us sooner? You've been going to school for months now."
"I wanted to be your brave boy," Harry replied bashfully. "And I didn't want to risk being a bully back."
Lily watched as Harry mumbled something further under his breath. "What was that last bit, Harry?"
He locked eyes with his mother, momentarily pleading with her. She just stared back, silently demanding an answer.
"He teases me. Says I'll run home to mummy and cry." Lily gasped and Mipsy wrapped Harry in her arms again. "I don't want him to be right. I'm not afraid of him, Mum."
A determined look filled his eyes as he stared up at his parents.
"My word, Harry. I know where you are going. Ravenclaw my foot." James said, looking at his wife. "But being brave doesn't mean you have to take everything on yourself, lad. We're your parents, and you can tell us anything."
Harry relaxed slightly as he sunk into Mipsy's hug. He was worried about what his parents would say if they ever found out about the bullying. He didn't want to give Thomas the satisfaction of being right about him running and telling on him. He'd never once told anyone about the bullying, believing he was stronger if he just took it in silence.
"Now," Lily drew his gaze as Mipsy stepped back again, "tell me all about this Hermione."
She smiled widely at the glowing grin that spread on her son's face. He had finally found the friend he'd been looking for since he started school. Many nights he had come home and shared all about his classes, but he had always avoided talking about friends and the other children. Lily had heard what he wasn't saying. She could see the longing in his eyes.
She felt a little guilty, for filling his mind with the wondrous ideas of friendship, which had until now evaded him at the school. But she could feel it in his voice and see in his eyes that he now understood every word she had said. And he was happier than she had seen him in a long time.
ϟ
Hermione curled up on her bed struggling to read the page she had been staring at for the last three hours.
She was furious at herself. Not for talking to the boy she had been watching for weeks. Harry was smart, like her and he wasn't afraid to show it as she was becoming. She was upset because he was distracting her from her book now.
The other children would pick on her for knowing the answers. They made fun of her for spending her free time reading books instead of playing. But most of all she hated that they made fun of her hair and her teeth. Especially some of the students in the older grades, many of whom seemed overly concerned with their appearance in Hermione's opinion.
The other things she could deal with, those she did by choice, but she had tried so many times to tame her wild hair and nothing could be done with it. She had broken several brushes her first week of school trying to tame the mane and had cried herself to sleep many nights since knowing her parents wouldn't fix her teeth. As dentists, they assured her that she would grow into them soon. But while she was growing, the other kids would keep picking on her.
It felt like everyone except Harry had made fun of her for something. At first, she'd thought he was too, laughing at her hiding in the library. But she had to agree, the picture of Thomas in flames running about the library had been funny. But the fear was still there.
When he sat next to her, terror filled her as she waited for him to mock her. Or to steal her pencils. Some of the other girls liked to take her things and she never got them back again. She was so upset that one of them had taken the notepad her Nanna had given her on her first day. She lived so far away that she hadn't seen her since, and the notepad had filled her with joy any time she had written in it.
Now she was waiting for the other shoe to drop with Harry. Surely, he would see what everyone else did and abandon her. Or worse, join in the mocking. Hermione didn't think she could take it if he did it as well. She had been terrified when she was fleeing past the playground as Thomas picked on Harry.
She couldn't understand his reluctance to tell the teachers what really happened. Curiosity had finally won out and she had to ask.
And now she had a friend. He had said that they were friends, and he had sat with her for the rest of the day. His attention baffled her.
When she looked at him, there was no malice in his gaze. His smile was warm and when he put his hand on hers a few times, her heart had beat so fast she thought she would pass out. She was dreading Monday, as she was sure he would change his mind over the weekend and hate her come school next week.
These kids really had done a number on her. Her insecurities would swarm her all night, egged on by the cruel comments she had to endure all day. But there was a tiny little part of her, deep down inside that thought maybe, just maybe, Harry was different.
Maybe he really was her friend.