Finding Heather

Year 5 Chapter 2

Author's Notes: Here's chapter two. So far, I've taken most of my notes for this chapter and thrown them right in a blender. I didn't intend to write any of this when I started but I loved where it ended up. I hope you enjoy!

As always the world of Harry Potter does not belong to me but J.K. Rowling

Chapter Two

Harry lay awake that night in the room he was sharing with Ron at 12 Grimmauld Place. The room was musty and uncomfortable, though Ron seemed not to care as the sound of him snoring echoed in the small space. Harry, who rarely slept well his first night in a new place, felt his mind race every time he closed his eyes. Everything he had been told after dinner, coupled with seeing Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and everyone else circled around his head without end. In his hand under the blanket was a note Hermione had slipped him when she hugged him on the landing before going to bed.

Meet me in the kitchen at midnight

Harry had crumpled it up when he'd read it the first time, letting his anger at his best friend flow freely. No, he thought, I wont meet her. Ill let her stay in the dark about me for a while. He was angry at all of them, and the fact that Dumbledore had made them promise not to tell him anything didn't make it any better. He listened as an old grandfather clock somewhere in the house chimed half past eleven, and he clenched his fist around the note again. When the chime went off for quarter till, almost without willing himself to, Harry got up, unlocked the door and slipped out into the hallway.

His and Ron's bedroom was on the second floor of the house. Harry listened for any sound of noise on the landings above. At least one floor up was Mrs. Weasley's room, and she had already come down twice to check that they were asleep since they'd all come upstairs for the night. The stairs creaked slightly as he made his way down to the first floor. Turning, he continued down the once grand staircase and emerged into the dark and gloomy entrance hallway. The portrait of Sirius's mother was breathing quietly behind her moth eaten curtains, and Kreacher was nowhere to be seen.

Down in the kitchen it was cold. The high ceilings and the stone floors had long since sucked any heat that the room had held hours before. A small gas lamp sat on a sideboard as the only light in the room. Harry moved it to the table and pulled out a chair to sit down, wishing Hermione would get here soon before he caught a cold. His ears were listening for any sound of movement, and it was a few minutes before he caught the whisper of slippered feet on stone.

Hermione, her hair as busy as ever and wearing a purple dressing gown and robe, came into the room and upon seeing Harry, flung herself at him for a hug, much as she had hours before when he'd first arrived in the bedroom upstairs. This time it was different however, it lasted longer and she held him tighter.

"I'm so sorry, Heather." She whispered in his ear.

Harry stiffened at the sound of the name and didn't respond for a moment. Inside him raged his anger at Hermione coupled with relief that she hadn't changed her mind about him.

"I'm sure you must think horrible things about me because of my letters" Hermione continued, still holding him tight, "I wanted to use your name in my letters, but Ron was always there when I was writing to you and Ginny, and I were scared that if someone read the letter they might find out about Heather."

Still Harry was silent, taking that in. It made sense, especially the part about having to hide it from Ron. While Hermione and Ginny knew the full truth about Heather, after what had happened last fall between them, Harry hadn't felt comfortable opening up to Ron about it. It had been awkward enough when Ron had found out it was true that Harry liked other boys. The thought of telling his best mate that he liked to wear dresses and knickers would probably be too much.