Chapter Twelve

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It was still dark in the common room when Harry left his room, the only thing that suggested how long he'd been asleep for was how freezing cold it was, the fire having died in the middle of the night and allowing the common room to let the warmth seep out of its stone and freeze whatever flesh is open to it, but that dilemma was easily solved with a silently cast incendio, which got the fire started with a brilliant explosion of light and heat.

Harry settled himself down on the space in front of the kindly burning flames, a large fluffy blanket that he'd found sitting on his desk chair wrapped loosely around his shoulders. His feet were still bare to the floors coldness, and he wrapped his hands around them to heat them up, not willing to expose them to the nippy air - despite there being a fire to warm them.

The Dreamless sleep potion had left his body not long ago, allowing him to rise back to wakefulness with an almost eerie calmness, and yawn with contentment. He'd slept a solid nine hours, a new record if he was to believe it, and he was more than pleased with his new-found Potions skill. Although, that excitement hardly lasted more than ten minutes before he pulled himself up and out of his room, finding himself far too aware and wired to fall back to sleep or just sit in his room. So he'd found himself in the common room, just enjoying the silence and taking in the detail he hadn't been able to the first time he'd gotten here.

He reckoned that the large floor to ceiling dark green windows that bordered the room were the most eye-catching features; they gave the most beautiful view of the lake and the Mermaid village, something he remembered that the Slytherin common room hadn't exactly been able to see from its higher perch, but from this vantage point, they could see the entire lake floor; the fields of deep grassy green weeds that housed the terrible Grindylows and other creatures; the almost barbaric looking Mermaid village; the water-top that shimmered and filtered the sunlight down like pieces of glass and the many colonies of fish that swam in misshapen clouds, often dancing around Merchildren as they swam around.

But there was also the large fireplace that dominated the main lounge, its intricately carved backing highlighted by the bright flames and casting ominous shadows on the floor in front of him. They were of serpents, most entwining some form of animal, and even one opening its mouth to devour a trapped bird -clearly a form of favoritism of Slytherin over Ravenclaw-, but what captured Harry's attention, was the large school logo. It had the four Houses and motto, but instead of all equal parts, the Slytherin House was the most obviously favored and forefront, the proud coiling serpent clearly hissing and preening. 

As Harry glanced out the window, fish of all kinds and colors swam by, some of them stopping to look in or touch at the heavily warded glass with their mouths, bobbing and flicking their tails viciously as if pushing themselves against it, before swimming away. From where Harry sat, he could see the Giant Squid, bobbing along in the water and chasing friendly Merpeople with exaggerated movements, even swatting at them. The Merpeople laughed and danced circles around it, slapping their tails daringly at the squids sides and dodging when the squid slapped at them. It was obviously a game amongst them, and Harry couldn't help but wonder if chasing the Giant Squid and dodging its arms were their equivalent to Quidditch. But then, Hermione always did call him Quidditch obsessed.

Hermione. He wondered what she and Ron were doing, whether they were talking about him or still sleeping. Or if they'd gone home, seeing as they were all supposedly visiting him to help him acclimate into the suddenly new atmosphere of Hogwarts. Well, if they were, they weren't doing a very good job of it, they were more interested in what was happening around themselves rather than what was happening to him. 

It was times like this that the overwhelming sadness began to creep in and make itself known. Times where he could see the happiness in others, his friends mostly, but realize that he had never felt that type of happiness, nor have anything to be happy about. Sure he has his Godfather, his life and his friends, but what good was that when he knew it was only a matter of time before they all left him? He wasn't what people call, social. No, Harry's silent and reclusive. A lone wolf, as some would say. A lone wolf that has loving friends and family, but can't bring themselves to appreciate them. An ungrateful person.

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