Daughter of Mine | Harry Potter

XI.

Lalia sat on a couch in Gryffindor common room, pulling at her bottom lip. On her sides were Hermione and Ginny, who both were glancing worriedly at the girl. They knew they could offer no help, especially since Lalia had turned down Professor McGonagall's offer of help and the hospital ward. 

Instead Lalia sat tensely on the couch, staring at the common room entrance, begging for it to open. She ignored the excited conversations around her for a Gryffindor champion. Her tongue flicked out against her lip and upon tasting the blood in her mouth, she released the marred skin. 

A hand lifted to her fast as she alternated to biting her fingernails and surrounding skin instead. 

The door swung open, but Lalia's vision was immediately obscured by bodies as a blast of noise was heard. Gryffindor House was screaming, applauding, and whistling. 

"You should've told us you'd entered!" bellowed Fred; he looked half annoyed, half deeply impressed. 

"How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" roared George. 

Lalia saw a brief flash of Harry by the two red heads when Angelina suddenly blocked her view. Everyone hurriedly began offering Harry food and conversation and Lalia groaned and fell back against the couch. 

Everyone continued to ignore Harry denying his entry. Eventually, Hermione became tired and her and Ginny stood for bed. 

"Coming?" 

"No... I really need to see him... Plus I have a potion I'm suppose to be taking every night, so I'll just wait down here."

The girls nodded and hugged her goodnight before heading to their rooms. Lalia sat back on the couch and attempted to keep her eyes on the raven hair boy being pulled everywhere. 

When his eyes made contact with Lalia's, Harry was tired of the celebration. 

"I'm tired!" he bellowed finally, after nearly half an hour. "No, seriously, George - I'm going to bed -"

Harry grabbed Lalia's arms and led her up the stairs, side-stepping the Creevey brothers. Before he entered his room, he stopped and faced her. 

"Are you okay?" he asked her softly. 

"I'm fine, just remembering my vision gave me pain. Now I know how the Goblet was related to you. Doesn't matter since it was too late," Lalia chuckled darkly. 

"You still shared the vision with me, Lia. It's not your fault, we both could've done more."

"Yeah, well you aren't the one who showed it to Voldemort, which he was very pleased with, need I remind you." 

Instead of responding, Harry hugged Lalia tightly. 

"You didn't do anything wrong. We're still learning. And Voldemort didn't do this himself and if he's involved, your vision didn't create the future, it simply saw it, okay?" His hands remained on her shoulders as he stared into her eyes. When she didn't respond he repeated, "Okay?"

"Okay, you're right, Harry."

"Good, now let's get some sleep. Goodnight."

"Can... can I stay here?" Lalia asked. 

Harry froze in shock not expecting her to ask this. 

"You want to?" 

Lalia nodded her head and wiped her sleeves under her eyes. "Please," she whispered. 

"Yeah, yeah, of course." He began to lead her to the door when she resisted. 

"I need my draught to sleep. Let me just go change and grab it, okay?"