The Boy Who Lived Next Door
Worry
[Chapter 7]
May 23rd
Present Day
He was preoccupied by ever consuming thoughts of Voldemort. Some days, that summer, he felt like there was no more room in his mind for anything else or anyone else. His thoughts revolved around Voldemort. But somehow, he always had a little piece of his mind, locked away, secured just for thoughts of her.
He worried about when Voldemort would appear or when he would start killing again. He worried who he would kill…he had worried that he knew about her.
Every day he was away at school, he knew his friends were safe…for the moment because Dumbledore was there to protect them all. But back on Privet Drive, she was alone.
Some days, he wanted her to forget him. He wanted her to find a safer friend. He wanted her to forget him and to never think of him again.
But some days he was selfish. Some days, he wished she was alone. He wished that she wouldn’t find someone to replace him when he was away. He didn’t want her to find a new best friend. Sometimes, he wanted her to think about him and to care about him the way that he thought and cared about her.
But he was a fool. He was blinded so desperately by his conviction that she didn’t care for him, that he didn’t see how much she truly did care.
Sometimes, he thought her saw caring in her eyes when she spent time with him during the summer. Sometimes he wished she loved him. But he convinced himself otherwise.
Now he could see, all she’d wanted was for him to trust her. All she’d wanted was for him to stop telling her about girls like Cho and to admit how he felt about her…not that she had any idea how much he cared for her.
September 15th, 1995
Dear Journal,
I don’t hear much from Harry. But it’s understandable. He has a lot to deal with. I got his first letter of the school year today. His two best friends, Ron and Hermione, were prefects. And Harry’s jealous of Ron because he expected to be named prefect.
Personally, I think its good that Harry wasn’t made a prefect because he seems to have a quite a lot to deal with already. He doesn’t need anymore pressure.
Harry also wrote that there was a new teacher at his school, named Umbridge. He said she wasn’t much of a teacher.
- Elle.
January 3rd, 1996
Dear Journal,
Harry wrote me again. He keeps having these dreams. They’re haunting him. He doesn’t know what they mean.
Ron’s dad was attacked. And Harry feels responsible. He wasn’t clear at all. Just that he feels like it’s his fault or something. But I know Harry. I know he’s good.
Harry’s friend Hermione apparently was able to convince him to start a club for fighting. It’s a secret club, essentially illegal at his school due to that Umbridge lady. He said he is teaching his friends how to fight, so that they can fight Voldemort and his followers.
Cho is in the club. Harry wrote me that they kissed. I didn’t think it hurt that much to know that they had kissed. I mean I knew he liked her but why? Why can’t he see that I am here? That I’m practically waiting for him to notice me as anything other than a friend?
- Elle.
May 28th, 1996
Dear Journal,
Harry hasn’t written in a while. In his last letter, he said that his club had been discovered and since they were operating under the name “Dumbledore’s Army,” his headmaster took ownership of the club. Thus, the headmaster had to flee police authorities, leaving Umbridge open to become headmistress of Harry’s school.
Harry hates her. He makes her sound like an odious woman, I don’t know how he stands her.
He wrote that he had a date on Valentine’s Day with Cho, but that it didn’t go too well. I feel horrible that I’m happy about his failed date. I want him to be happy. I just wish he would be happy with me.
Harry has only written me three times this year. He’s been gone almost ten months and I’ve only gotten three letters?
I hate how pathetic I am when it comes to Harry. I hate that I care about him more than he ever could and ever will care about me.
I hate that I worry. I hate that I spend so much time thinking of him. I hate that no other boy can compare to him.
- Elle.
June 16th, 1996
Dear Journal,
Harry’s godfather was murdered.
“Harry!” I exclaimed happily once I saw him standing outside my window. “I’ve missed you- What’s wrong?” I asked immediately as I took in the look on his face.
He said nothing. He only stared at me with lifeless eyes.
“Harry you’re scaring me.” I whispered, for fear of waking up my parents. “Harry, please…” I pleaded. “What happened? Are you alright?”
“Come on.” He said finally, gesturing that I should go out the window. “Come with me to the playground.”
Needing no more persuasion, I clumsily climbed out the window.
“Harry-”
“Just wait until we get there, okay?”
I nodded and Harry took my hand as we walked quietly to the park.
We stopped between the swings and the slide and laid down in the grass.
“There was a fight.” Harry began quietly and suddenly. My heart pounded in my chest as needless worry filled my heart. I knew Harry was alright, physically. But I didn’t know if he could handle losing someone else.
“At first, it was just a group of my friends fighting Voldemort’s followers and they were winning. And then the Order came…the Order is the Order of the Phoenix…they’re a group of people who are dedicated to fight Voldemort. And they were helping us beat back his followers. Then it happened-” He stopped. And I knew he needed a moment to gather himself.
Gently I grabbed his hand and squeezed it.
“My godfather was fighting his cousin, Bellatrix…and she…she killed him.”
“Harry-”
“And I stood there, waiting for him to pop back into my view and he just kept me waiting and waiting and he’s never done that. I was so angry.”
“Harry,” I whispered gently, hoping he would stop as tears fell from his eyes for his lost family.
“I was angry at her.” He said. “And I ran after her. And then…and then he appeared.”
“Voldemort?” I filled in.
Harry nodded. “He’s back. He’s back. He’s back.” Harry kept repeating. “No one is safe now. He’s going to kill everyone. And I have to stop him.”
“Harry, you’re just a kid!”
“I know that!” He yelled, shoving himself. “I know I’m a kid and I know its impossible but I have to! Voldemort killed my parents, Elle! And he’s the reason my godfather is dead! I have no family! I have to stop him because he chose me! People create their own enemies and that’s what he did! If he had chosen to kill Neville’s parents instead of mine, Neville would be in my place! But he didn’t. Voldemort gave me this task when he murdered my parents! I have to destroy him or else…or else everyone is screwed.”
“Harry-”
“Elle…he’s back and I can’t keep everyone safe.”
He has so much pressure on him. I don’t know how he handles it. He feels like he has to save the world but he doesn’t. He acts like its not enough for him just to be Harry. But it is. Its more than enough.
Harry’s lost everyone now. His godfather was all that was left. And this Voldemort took that away. Harry will kill him. But I don’t think Harry is a killer. He doesn’t have it in him to become like Voldemort.
- Elle.
June 21st, 1996
Dear Journal,
Harry worries about me. I wish he wouldn’t. I’m the one who has a reason to worry, not him.
“I’m worried about you,” I whispered one night, as we found ourselves at the playground, yet again.
“I'm more worried about you."
"What?" I asked incredulously as we sat up. "Why are you worried about me? You're the one with a psycho murderer/mob boss after you! Not me!" I exclaimed.
"Yes, but you're friends with me. He could know…he could…he could hurt you to get to me,” Harry replied as he refused to look at me.
"I can protect myself Harry." I insisted.
"No you can't!" Harry yelled, standing up. "He could kill you in an instant, before you even know what happened. If he ever finds out about you, he could torture you until you lose your mind!”
“Harry-”
“I’m sorry.” He whispered harshly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Harry, stop apologizing.”
“Why don’t you understand? I am not safe. I am not a good friend. Every moment that you’ve spent with me, I’m just putting you in more danger…when he finds out about you-”
“You don’t need to worry about me!”
“Someone has to!” Harry yelled, turning to face me. “Elle, you’re the closest thing I have to family. I’ve known you longer than anyone of my school friends. I told you things I haven’t told them. They know what they’re up against. But you…I can’t lose you because of this. I can’t let him find you.”
“Harry, please. I know you’re worried but…I…I don’t want to be just another thing you have to worry about. You’re under enough pressure.”
I wish Harry would worry because he cares. I don’t want to be family. I want Harry to care for me beyond friendship.
- Elle.
July 29, 1996
Dear Journal,
Harry and I hung out almost every day. Sometimes, I felt like he forgot his troubles when we were together. I felt like he was truly happy. I was glad to make him smile so carefree-ly.
Harry left again. A few days ago, when I was walking home alone from the playground, I saw a man standing before the Dursleys’ front door.
He knocked and waited patiently for the door to be opened. I walked across my own lawn to my front door, the older man with a very long white beard turned to look at me.
Behind half-moon glasses, his blue eyes gazed at me. He smiled at me and I felt as if he understood everything about me, everything about Harry and I. It was unnerving and yet comforting at the same time.
That night, I knew Harry left.
- Elle.
May 23rd
Present Day
He was preoccupied by ever consuming thoughts of Voldemort. Some days, that summer, he felt like there was no more room in his mind for anything else or anyone else. His thoughts revolved around Voldemort. But somehow, he always had a little piece of his mind, locked away, secured just for thoughts of her.
He worried about when Voldemort would appear or when he would start killing again. He worried who he would kill…he had worried that he knew about her.
Every day he was away at school, he knew his friends were safe…for the moment because Dumbledore was there to protect them all. But back on Privet Drive, she was alone.
Some days, he wanted her to forget him. He wanted her to find a safer friend. He wanted her to forget him and to never think of him again.
But some days he was selfish. Some days, he wished she was alone. He wished that she wouldn’t find someone to replace him when he was away. He didn’t want her to find a new best friend. Sometimes, he wanted her to think about him and to care about him the way that he thought and cared about her.
But he was a fool. He was blinded so desperately by his conviction that she didn’t care for him, that he didn’t see how much she truly did care.
Sometimes, he thought her saw caring in her eyes when she spent time with him during the summer. Sometimes he wished she loved him. But he convinced himself otherwise.
Now he could see, all she’d wanted was for him to trust her. All she’d wanted was for him to stop telling her about girls like Cho and to admit how he felt about her…not that she had any idea how much he cared for her.
September 15th, 1995
Dear Journal,
I don’t hear much from Harry. But it’s understandable. He has a lot to deal with. I got his first letter of the school year today. His two best friends, Ron and Hermione, were prefects. And Harry’s jealous of Ron because he expected to be named prefect.
Personally, I think its good that Harry wasn’t made a prefect because he seems to have a quite a lot to deal with already. He doesn’t need anymore pressure.
Harry also wrote that there was a new teacher at his school, named Umbridge. He said she wasn’t much of a teacher.
- Elle.
January 3rd, 1996
Dear Journal,
Harry wrote me again. He keeps having these dreams. They’re haunting him. He doesn’t know what they mean.
Ron’s dad was attacked. And Harry feels responsible. He wasn’t clear at all. Just that he feels like it’s his fault or something. But I know Harry. I know he’s good.
Harry’s friend Hermione apparently was able to convince him to start a club for fighting. It’s a secret club, essentially illegal at his school due to that Umbridge lady. He said he is teaching his friends how to fight, so that they can fight Voldemort and his followers.
Cho is in the club. Harry wrote me that they kissed. I didn’t think it hurt that much to know that they had kissed. I mean I knew he liked her but why? Why can’t he see that I am here? That I’m practically waiting for him to notice me as anything other than a friend?
- Elle.
May 28th, 1996
Dear Journal,
Harry hasn’t written in a while. In his last letter, he said that his club had been discovered and since they were operating under the name “Dumbledore’s Army,” his headmaster took ownership of the club. Thus, the headmaster had to flee police authorities, leaving Umbridge open to become headmistress of Harry’s school.
Harry hates her. He makes her sound like an odious woman, I don’t know how he stands her.
He wrote that he had a date on Valentine’s Day with Cho, but that it didn’t go too well. I feel horrible that I’m happy about his failed date. I want him to be happy. I just wish he would be happy with me.
Harry has only written me three times this year. He’s been gone almost ten months and I’ve only gotten three letters?
I hate how pathetic I am when it comes to Harry. I hate that I care about him more than he ever could and ever will care about me.
I hate that I worry. I hate that I spend so much time thinking of him. I hate that no other boy can compare to him.
- Elle.
June 16th, 1996
Dear Journal,
Harry’s godfather was murdered.
“Harry!” I exclaimed happily once I saw him standing outside my window. “I’ve missed you- What’s wrong?” I asked immediately as I took in the look on his face.
He said nothing. He only stared at me with lifeless eyes.
“Harry you’re scaring me.” I whispered, for fear of waking up my parents. “Harry, please…” I pleaded. “What happened? Are you alright?”
“Come on.” He said finally, gesturing that I should go out the window. “Come with me to the playground.”
Needing no more persuasion, I clumsily climbed out the window.
“Harry-”
“Just wait until we get there, okay?”
I nodded and Harry took my hand as we walked quietly to the park.
We stopped between the swings and the slide and laid down in the grass.
“There was a fight.” Harry began quietly and suddenly. My heart pounded in my chest as needless worry filled my heart. I knew Harry was alright, physically. But I didn’t know if he could handle losing someone else.
“At first, it was just a group of my friends fighting Voldemort’s followers and they were winning. And then the Order came…the Order is the Order of the Phoenix…they’re a group of people who are dedicated to fight Voldemort. And they were helping us beat back his followers. Then it happened-” He stopped. And I knew he needed a moment to gather himself.
Gently I grabbed his hand and squeezed it.
“My godfather was fighting his cousin, Bellatrix…and she…she killed him.”
“Harry-”
“And I stood there, waiting for him to pop back into my view and he just kept me waiting and waiting and he’s never done that. I was so angry.”
“Harry,” I whispered gently, hoping he would stop as tears fell from his eyes for his lost family.
“I was angry at her.” He said. “And I ran after her. And then…and then he appeared.”
“Voldemort?” I filled in.
Harry nodded. “He’s back. He’s back. He’s back.” Harry kept repeating. “No one is safe now. He’s going to kill everyone. And I have to stop him.”
“Harry, you’re just a kid!”
“I know that!” He yelled, shoving himself. “I know I’m a kid and I know its impossible but I have to! Voldemort killed my parents, Elle! And he’s the reason my godfather is dead! I have no family! I have to stop him because he chose me! People create their own enemies and that’s what he did! If he had chosen to kill Neville’s parents instead of mine, Neville would be in my place! But he didn’t. Voldemort gave me this task when he murdered my parents! I have to destroy him or else…or else everyone is screwed.”
“Harry-”
“Elle…he’s back and I can’t keep everyone safe.”
He has so much pressure on him. I don’t know how he handles it. He feels like he has to save the world but he doesn’t. He acts like its not enough for him just to be Harry. But it is. Its more than enough.
Harry’s lost everyone now. His godfather was all that was left. And this Voldemort took that away. Harry will kill him. But I don’t think Harry is a killer. He doesn’t have it in him to become like Voldemort.
- Elle.
June 21st, 1996
Dear Journal,
Harry worries about me. I wish he wouldn’t. I’m the one who has a reason to worry, not him.
“I’m worried about you,” I whispered one night, as we found ourselves at the playground, yet again.
“I'm more worried about you."
"What?" I asked incredulously as we sat up. "Why are you worried about me? You're the one with a psycho murderer/mob boss after you! Not me!" I exclaimed.
"Yes, but you're friends with me. He could know…he could…he could hurt you to get to me,” Harry replied as he refused to look at me.
"I can protect myself Harry." I insisted.
"No you can't!" Harry yelled, standing up. "He could kill you in an instant, before you even know what happened. If he ever finds out about you, he could torture you until you lose your mind!”
“Harry-”
“I’m sorry.” He whispered harshly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Harry, stop apologizing.”
“Why don’t you understand? I am not safe. I am not a good friend. Every moment that you’ve spent with me, I’m just putting you in more danger…when he finds out about you-”
“You don’t need to worry about me!”
“Someone has to!” Harry yelled, turning to face me. “Elle, you’re the closest thing I have to family. I’ve known you longer than anyone of my school friends. I told you things I haven’t told them. They know what they’re up against. But you…I can’t lose you because of this. I can’t let him find you.”
“Harry, please. I know you’re worried but…I…I don’t want to be just another thing you have to worry about. You’re under enough pressure.”
I wish Harry would worry because he cares. I don’t want to be family. I want Harry to care for me beyond friendship.
- Elle.
July 29, 1996
Dear Journal,
Harry and I hung out almost every day. Sometimes, I felt like he forgot his troubles when we were together. I felt like he was truly happy. I was glad to make him smile so carefree-ly.
Harry left again. A few days ago, when I was walking home alone from the playground, I saw a man standing before the Dursleys’ front door.
He knocked and waited patiently for the door to be opened. I walked across my own lawn to my front door, the older man with a very long white beard turned to look at me.
Behind half-moon glasses, his blue eyes gazed at me. He smiled at me and I felt as if he understood everything about me, everything about Harry and I. It was unnerving and yet comforting at the same time.
That night, I knew Harry left.
- Elle.