TOGETHER (A HARRY POTTER LOVE STORY) 4

4

MILLIES POV

"Thank you," I said politely, cringing at myself again.

"Mmm..." Harry looked around, leaning himself back on his arms. "Your room's nearly as nice as mine."

I stared at him. "That's such a backhanded compliment."

"I was being sarcastic." Harry's eyes landed on me and he smiled. I tried to smile in return, but I'm sure it looked more like a grimace; Harry's face didn't waver, though, so I suspected it was alright.

"You're very tanned," I observed, glancing at his arms; his physique seemed to have changed over the summer, too. His t-shirt was practically clinging to his muscles.

"That's because I spent most of the summer outside," he said patiently, tilting his head. His eyes seemed to be glued to me, which only made me feel more flustered. "As far away from Dudley as possible."

"How were they this summer?" I asked, leaning my back on the wardrobe so I could talk to him. I mentally high-fived myself for saying something normal.

"The Dursleys?" said Harry, and I nodded. "Do I even have to answer that question?"

I sent him another small smile. "No-"

"But I will," he interrupted, and I narrowed my eyes at him. "It wasn't as bad as usual, mainly because they were scared that Sirius would turn up and kill them if they did anything too bad."

"Have you spoken to Sirius?" I asked eagerly, crossing my arms. I knew that Dad hadn't heard from him, and neither had Lupin.

"Yeah, twice," Harry answered, and I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "He sounds okay. I wrote to him the day before yesterday saying - er-" He shut his mouth, staring sheepishly at me.

"Saying what?" I said suspiciously, pushing myself off the wardrobe.

"Er..." Harry ran his hand through his hair, then rested it on his neck.

"Yes?" I pressed impatiently, taking a single step towards him.

We stared at each other for another second, before Harry broke.

"Listen, you can't tell anyone," he muttered, his eyes flicking between me and the wall, "because it probably means nothing..."

"Okay?" I said, feeling slightly nervous. "What is it?"

Silence.

"On Saturday morning I woke up with my scar hurting again," he blurted, very quickly.

My lips parted in shock. "What...?"

"I was dreaming about Voldemort," Harry explained, his hand now rubbing the front of his neck nervously, his ring glinting in the moonlight, "him and Pettigrew. I can't remember all of it now, but they were plotting to kill - er - someone."

There was a short pause, in which I watched his hand return behind him on my bed with the other one, before I said quietly, "Well, it was just a dream, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but was it though?" muttered Harry, turning his upper body round so he could look out of the window. "Remember what Trelawney said to me? At the end of last year-?"

"She's full of bullshit," I said instantly, and his eyes snapped back to me. "I've told you that before-"

"You still think that?" he asked, raising one of his eyebrows.

"Yes. Why wouldn't I?"

Harry hesitated for a second, but then clearly decided against what he was going to say; he shook his head slightly, before saying, "I dunno...just don't mention the scar thing to anyone. S'not a big deal."