SABAISM | H. POTTER

THIRTEEN. | YOU ARE NOT ALONE

AFTER A GRUELING SMATTER OF DAWN-TO-DARKS, FULL OF PRACTICING AND QUESTIONING WHERE GEMINI HAD DISAPPEARED TO, HARRY WOKE EXTREMELY EARLY...SO EARLY THAT IT WAS STILL DARK. For a moment he thought the roaring of the wind had woken him. Then he felt a cold breeze on the back of his neck and sat bolt upright - Peeves the Poltergeist had been floating next to him, blowing hard in his ear. "What did you do that for?," furiously questioned Harry. Peeves puffed out his cheeks, blew hard, and suddenly informed, "Bloony sent me." Soon after deciding to exit in a dramatic way, typical.

Harry fumbled for his alarm clock and looked at it. It was half past four. Cursing Peeves, and slightly concerned about the girl of his dreams, Harry rolled over and tried to get back to sleep. However, it proved to be a very difficult action. Yes; he was furious with her for vanishing once a month and sneaking back into the Tower the following morning, he was furious with her for not being there to stick up for her dad the other day, he was furious with her for sending Peeves to wake him up when they have a Quidditch game in a few hours, but he was mainly furious with her for keeping things bottled up. They're supposed to be best friends; she's supposed to feel at ease coming to him. He's supposed to know what's going on. Merlin, he adored her too much to ignore her call. So, finally, he gave up any thought of more sleep, got up, dressed, picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand, and headed to the common room to see what she needed.

As Harry opened the door, something brushed against his leg. He bent down just in time to grab Crookshanks by the end of his bushy tail and drag him outside. "You know, I reckon Ron was right about you," Harry chided the orange mouser; a suspicious hint laced his tone, "There are plenty of mice around this place - go and chase them. Go on." Then, as he nudged the cat down the spiral staircase with his foot, he added, "Leave Scabbers alone."

The noise of the storm was even louder in the common room. Harry knew better than to think the match would be canceled; Quidditch matches weren't called off for trifles like thunderstorms. Nevertheless, he had started to feel very apprehensive. - Wood had pointed out Cedric Diggory to him in the corridor; Diggory was a fifth year and a lot bigger than Harry. He was a lot bigger than Harry, and while the Boy-Who-Lived sized up his upcoming opponent...he took notice of how Cedric seized up Gemini who was to Harry's right. He had to win this now. - Though, all of that trepidation flew out of the window as his emeralds landed on Gemini; by now covered in crimson Quidditch robes.

Dawn had just started to break; allowing piddling rays of sun to peak through scarlet curtains. Though, it was just enough scintillant for Harry to view the dark bags under her eyes and the graze that decorated her cheekbone. She was still angelic, that was a certainty known by all, but in this moment she appeared so frayed at the edges. The boy watched her for a brief time period, scrutinizing how her eyelashes drooped in exhaustion and how she lazily twirled a stray curl, before making his presence acknowledged. "Gemini," he softly whispered; infuriation diminished within seconds, "Where the hell have you been? What happened to your cheek? Who did that to your cheek? Are you sound enough to play today? What is -?"

"Breathe, Harry," she hastily interrupted; a yawn soon following, "I'm sure that you've heard, but my dad fell ill. Just a mild case of Levitation sickness. Yet, it was enough to land him with Pom-Pom. I've tended to the old man these past couple of days. So, I'm just a bit fatigued. That's all. Obviously I'm 'sound enough' to kick some badger ass. On my worst day I could demolish the bloody Holyhead Harpies. - Oh; and as for the scratch on my cheekbone, my glorious cheekbones, I fell trying to get Dad some water at four in the morning. Nothing to worry your little head about." The fellow, distressingly sweet for her, found it challenging to accept her desultory rhetoric when he felt certain something was amiss. "Are you positive?," he probed. In counter; an exhale in besetment freed itself from her build. "I'm fine," the worn female stressed. "Gem," he pushed; undeniably on pins and needles, "You're beautiful. - I realize that, you realize that, and everyone else realizes that. - So, please don't take offense when I report this. But...you don't look fine." Gemini merely sniffed, she knew that swaying Harry would be complicated. It's as though, dense as he might be in other regards, he comprehended the girl almost as well as her own Father. If it came to her, getting a thing past him was akin to pulling teeth. "Then stop looking at me," she finalized; opting to adjust the conversation as she rose from her spot, "Now, come on. Let's go get a spot of breakfast. We've got a game to win."
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