For The Greater Good

Chapter 4

I did not sleep that night. I was restless, tossing and turning in my bed for hours. In the middle of the night I sat up in my bed. I keep thinking about him.

Gellert. With his piercing blue eyes and blond hair. Sharp cheekbones and soft hands. His cunning and ambition is intoxicating. He's handsome, and I'll be dammed if he doesn't know it. He might be the first person I've met that's on my intellectual level, or even higher. Dumstrangs actually teaches the dark arts, so he knows so much more that I do in terms of the dark arts. I guess this is what it's like to match wits. He is a bit of a flirt, but I'll give him a chance. He's enthusiastic about finding the Hollows, he gets truly excited when ever we find something. He gets this mischievous sparkle in his eyes sometimes. He makes me feel like we could be something more than this tiny town in the countryside. The both of us together. Us. It almost makes me sick to my stomach, but in a good way? 

I throw myself out of my bed and begin pacing restlessly around my room. I can't even stay still. I should go downstairs, get a glass of water, or a sleeping draught and just go to sleep. That's what I usually do when I get restless this late at night. I just can't bring myself to go to sleep at all.

This feeling is like no other I've had before. I've had friends before, but this is different. I can't put a name to it. I feel drawn to him, like a mooncalf is drawn to the moon. An image of us together wedges itself into my head. Just earlier today, or yesterday, under the willow tree. Except I don't run away. I know it's wrong but it feels so right. I need to see him again, I need clarification on what happened. 

I stand up and open my bedroom door. I stick my head out into the hallway. There's soft wand light coming from Aberforths bedroom. He's either still awake or he fell asleep without putting his wand out. I listen hard for a quill scratching on parchment, or the turning of pages. I hear nothing but crickets chirping outside. I step out into the hallway avoiding the creaky floorboards. I creep out the front door and as soon as the door clicks back into place I break out in a full run towards Bathilda's house. My bare feet hurt but it's minuscule compared to my desire to see him. Once I reach her house I lean against the wall trying to catch my breath. Once I can breath at a regular pace I look up and try to figure out how to get Gellerts attention.

His window faces the street and it's directly above trellises for a plant with vibrent purple flowers. I could easily climb them, but I don't know if it would be a good idea to break into someone else's house. Candlelight pours out of the open window and I can hear him quietly scolding his owl. My stomach lurches.

He's awake. 

Oh god, what am I doing here? I must have gone insane. It's the middle of the night. I'm not wearing shoes and I ran here on the cobbled road. I'm wearing my nightshirt and loose pants. Why did I think this was a good idea. Oh my god I'm acting on impulse. Why now? Everything I do has been extremely thought out, even to a fault as Aberforth says. If Aberforth knew I was here right now. I put my face in my hands. I have definitely gone insane. I exhale the entire contents of my lungs. Well, there's nowhere to go but up.

I start to climb the trellises. It's harder than I imagined it would be. I guess I should really get more exercise. I try to avoid the plants as much as possible to avoid hurting them. My hands reach the windowsill and I shakily hoist the rest of my body up. I swing a leg over the sill and slide into Gellerts room. 

It's a small guest room turned into a portrayal of Gellerts personality. He would probably call it an organized mess, but to me it's just a mess. There's a small library of books piled in a corner and a desk covered in parchment, quills, and half empty bottles of ink. His brown tawny owl, Wilber (Gellert didn't name him), sits on a corner of his bedside table with a freshly caught vole in his beak. That was probably what Gellert had been lecturing him about. A bed is pushed into the opposite corner from where I am. It's unmade and Gellert is sitting on the end of it, staring at me. There a book in his lap and a lit wand in his hand.