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↱ in which he's plagued by feelings
IT WAS JEALOUSY that caused the pit in his stomach to form. Despite the cold October chill, Harry still felt hot with jealousy.
Jealous that all his other friends got to have their experience with the boggart, or go to Hogsmeade with everyone else. And it was all because they thought he was weak. A weak little boy who couldn't handle himself against a fake dementor or walk through Hogsmeade without getting himself killed; as if he hadn't saved the school twice before.
But of course, they didn't want to take that into account. After all, he was just the weak Harry Potter who couldn't handle himself.
Worst of all, he wasn't able to see Scarlett all day.
Harry had to stay back and watch as she laughed along with her friends towards Hogsmeade.
Even at dinner the only thing he could do was gaze at her from afar.
Scarlett had been the only thing on Harry's mind since the day they met. She was a parasite leaching onto him, plaguing his thoughts with the sound of her sweet accented voice.
He longed for their short interactions where all she did was taunt him, a light banter that always left a smile on his face. Scarlett had an air of confidence that followed over her like an incessant storm cloud.
Maybe Harry wished he could be more like her, she never showed any signs of flaws. Maybe just being around her gave him the strength he so desperately needed to not feel insecure; to not feel like he was bound to be a disappointment from the start.
"What's going on?"
Harry looked up, he and his friends had made their way to the Gryffindor common room, but the entrance was barricaded by a crowd of concerned students.
"Excuse me, I'm Head Boy!" Percy Weasley shoved his way to the front of the crowd, followed closely by Professor Dumbledore himself.
Once they finally got a good look at the front, they saw that the portrait of the Fat Lady, had been clawed apart, the woman herself nowhere to be seen.
"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."
"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice.
It was Peeves the Poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry.
