The Boy Who Lived Next Door

[Chapter 8]
May 30, 1998
Present Day

He was so preoccupied during his sixth year. He barely wrote to her. But he thought of her. Between following Malfoy and hating Dean, he worried about Elle. He knew that if anything were to happen to her while he was away at school, he wouldn’t know. His uncle and aunt certainly wouldn’t write him to let him know.

And so he worried. But he couldn’t bring himself to write much. He figured that she wouldn’t mind. He didn’t think that she anxiously awaited his letters as temporary guarantees of his safety. He didn’t know. But then again, as he was learning while he read her diary, he didn’t know as much about her as he thought he did.

This was one of the years he’d been dreading reading about. He didn’t want to know what she wrote about what he did at the end of the summer. He didn’t want to know how much he hurt her. He had seen her face when he had fed her his excuse. He didn’t want to think of it again.

But he had to. He had to know. He had to finish no matter how much it hurt. He owed her at much.

December 29th, 1996
Dear Journal,

Harry’s written once since he left. But I guess he’s just been busy. Its understandable.

Okay, I’m lying. It’s not understandable. He didn’t even send a card for my birthday. He didn’t even mention it. Maybe we’ve just been friends for too long, maybe we don’t see each other enough, maybe we’ve just drifted apart. Maybe Harry doesn’t care about me anymore.

Harry was made captain of his sports team. He seemed happy about that. He said that his best friend, Ron, was on the team and so was Ron’s sister Ginny.

He mentioned that Ginny was dating a boy from his year, Dean. Harry sounded jealous. First Cho and now Ginny. Does he not know I don’t want to hear about them? I don’t want to know about what girl he’s chasing?

Harry wrote a little about how Ron and Hermione aren’t dating even though its obvious how much they care for each other. And I just want to know if he can see how much Hermione cares about Ron and how much Ron cares about Hermione, why can’t he see that I’ve been here all along, just waiting for him to fall for me?

And I know that sounds so depressing and so desperate but I’ve never met anyone like Harry. And I don’t want to meet anyone like Harry. But that doesn’t matter. Because I know Harry doesn’t trust me. He won’t tell me the whole truth. He’s lying. Every moment he spends with me, I know he’s deceiving me and I want nothing more than for him to just tell me the truth. But still he won’t. I doubt he ever will.

Harry also wrote that he’s been having meetings with his headmaster, Dumbledore, about Voldemort. He said that he’s learning about Voldemort’s past so that he can defeat him. But Harry’s not a killer. He doesn’t have it in him. Harry will find another way to defeat Voldemort, he has to. Because I just can’t escape the feeling that if Harry murders Voldemort, even though it would be completely just, I know Harry change. He won’t be the same.

Harry wrote for me to be careful. He said that he didn’t want anything to happen to me because I’m his best friend. That’s not a good enough reason. Maybe if Voldemort kills me, then Harry might decide that I was more than a best friend. Maybe then he’ll care like I want him to care. Because right now, I know he doesn’t. Not at all.

- Elle.

June 16th, 1997
Dear Journal,

Harry is home. And he’s lost someone else.

“Harry?” I asked quietly as I approached the swing set.
He didn’t look up as I sat down next to him.

“I didn’t know you were home.” I said when he didn’t respond. “Harry?”

“I have to kill him, Elle.”

“Harry-”

“No…I want to kill him.” He muttered darkly. “I want him to suffer. And…and Snape,” Harry’s knuckles turned white as he clenched the metal chains of the swing. “How could he? He’s a….he’s a coward.”

“What happened?”

Harry stood up forcefully and the swing reeled back. “Voldemort’s followers came into my school. There was a fight. And Dumbledore and I weren’t there because we were looking for a Horc- a way to beat Voldemort. When we got back…Malfoy…he was the one who let the Death Eaters into the school. And when he couldn’t…when he couldn’t kill Dumbledore, Snape did it for him,” Harry said through clenched teeth. “He was supposed to be on our side!” He yelled as he forcefully threw the swing against one of its metal support poles.

I quickly jumped off my swing to avoid getting hit.

“Harry!” I yelled as he began kicking the swing set.

“He’s a coward!” Harry kept saying as he kicked the swing set again and again.

“Harry, stop.” I pleaded as I put my hand on his shoulder.

Harry jerked away from me. “You don’t understand!” He yelled at me.

“Because you won’t let me!” I yelled back as I made him turn toward me.

I knew I couldn’t say anything to change what happened. I couldn’t do anything to make him feel better. So I did the only thing I could.

I pulled Harry into my arms and hugged him. He tried to push me any, but I wouldn’t let him. And soon he gave in and wrapped his arms around me in return.

It’s not right. This isn’t fair. Harry shouldn’t have to go through this. He doesn’t deserve this.

I wish I could help him but he won’t let me try. He won’t let me in.

- Elle.

June 23rd, 1997
Dear Journal,

I don’t know what’s going on with Harry. But yesterday, something happened.

“I know I’m a horrible friend.”

I stopped walking and turned to face him. “Harry-”

“No. Don’t try to tell me otherwise. I know its true and I know that sometimes, you think I’m a bad friend too.”

“No I don’t.”

“Stop lying, Elle.” He said with a sad smile. “I barely wrote to you all year-”

“You were busy-”

“And I never sent you a birthday present. I never even wished you a happy birthday.”

“You don’t have to-”
“Here.” He said, holding out a small box to me.

Slowly I opened the box. Inside was a thin silver chain.

“For the key.” He said simply. Harry had been with me a few days ago when I had broken the old chain that held the key to my diary.

“Oh Harry…” I muttered. “Thank you.” I pulled the key out of my pocket and threaded it onto the chain. “Will you…?” I asked, holding out the necklace.

“Er- sure.” He said with a faint pink appearing on his cheeks. He moved to stand behind me. Gently, he moved my hair away from the nape of my neck. He fumbled for a few minutes before he closed the clasp.

I put my hand to the key and turned around to face him. “Thank you.” I said quietly as I stared up at him.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled down at me softly. Slowly, I could feel myself leaning closer to him and he was leaning closer to me.

Suddenly, he hissed his pain and both of his hands flew to clutch his scar.

“Harry?” I asked as he sat down on the sidewalk. “Harry, what’s wrong?” Worry filled me. What was wrong?

Harry’s face glistened with sweat and when he opened his eyes to look at me, I swear they were scarlet.

“Harry, please…What’s wrong?” I whispered. But he said nothing, he only smiled. But it was cold. It wasn’t a smile I’d ever seen from Harry. It was a cruel, malicious smile.

“Harry?” I reached out to him but he flinched away.

He stood up quickly from the sidewalk with his back to him. Panting, he whispered over and over, “No…no…no!”

“Harry!” I yelled and tried yet again to reach out for him but he slipped out of my grasp.

“I’ve got to go home.” He mumbled without meeting my gaze. And with that, Harry left me standing on the sidewalk, watching him go.

Harry’s scar has hurt before but that was something new. I’ve never seen Harry like that before. He looked frightened. And the way he acted, it was like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

- Elle.

June 28th, 1997
Dear Journal,

Harry’s avoiding me.

- Elle.

July 2nd, 1997

Today, I made Harry talk to me. I managed to pull him from the Dursleys’ home, literally. Once we got to the park, we finally began our much needed conversation.

“Harry, why have you been avoiding me?”
“I’m not-“

“Harry, please. Every time I’ve come to the Dursleys’ you said you were busy. What could you have been doing? You haven’t come by. You won’t even look me in the eyes now! What’s going on? What did I do-”

“You didn’t do anything!” He insisted.

“Oh really, then why are you avoiding me like the plaque? What’s this about?”

“Its about what everything to do with me is about! You didn’t do anything!”

“Voldemort. This has to do with Voldemort?”

“Yes! He knows about you. He knows! He saw you. Through my eyes. I let him…” He mumbled crazily as he brushed his fingers through his hair forcefully.

“Harry, you’re not making any sense!”

“Elle, he knows about you. Before…before he didn’t but now…now he does! He’ll hurt you! I know he will. I know it. And I can’t…I have to go soon. And I won’t be here in case-”

“Harry, calm done!”

“How can I be calm?” He yelled. “If he hurts you, it will be my fault!”

“Why would he bother with me, Harry? Think about!” I logically, trying to calm him down. However, that didn’t work.

“I have thought about it! Its one of the only things I think about. I worry about you just as much as I worry about Ron and Hermione and Ginny! Maybe more because you don’t know what he can do. You haven’t seen it! I can tell you he’s murdered all these people but you won’t understand unless you’ve felt the effects like they have. You’re not safe because of me!”

“Harry!” I screamed, grabbing his attention by grabbing his face firmly in between my hands. “Nothing is going to happen to me.” I said slowly as I looked him in his eyes.

“How do you-”

“Trust me. He has no reason to hurt me. He will gain nothing. I’m nobody.”

“That’s not true, Elle.” Harry whispered as he brought up his hands to hold mine, which still hadn’t left his face.

“Why?”

“I care about you.”

He cares about me. But how much? That’s all I need to know.

- Elle.

July 14th, 1997
Dear Journal,

Oh my god.

“Harry!” I called with a smile on my face.

He laughed. “Yes, Elle?”

“Come on, we’re going to the park.”

“Elle-” But I didn’t wait for him to respond as I grabbed his hand and pulled him to the park.

“Here.” I said, handing him one of the popsicles I’d been hiding in my hand.

“How long were you holding these?” Harry asked with a chuckle.

“The five minutes it took us to get to the park. My hand’s numb.” I said with a shrug.

Harry rolled his eyes playfully at me. “Here.” He said grabbing my hand.

I looked away from him, wishing once again, that he wouldn’t notice how sweaty my palm was.

Gently, I pulled my hand from his grip, “Thanks.” I muttered, slightly flushed.

Harry only laughed at me.

I reached my hand up to push back his hair from his forehead. With one finger, I gently traced his scar. Harry’s eyes slid closed but for only a moment.

His hand shot up to grasp mine. “I’m fine.” He replied to my unasked question.

I sent him a weak smile. He knew I’d been worried about him.

“I promise.” He whispered.

I nodded and had to look away from him. He said he was fine but that did nothing to ease my fears.

“Elle-”
“Harry-”

“Sorry-”
“Sorry-”

“You go first-”
“You first-”

We both chuckled. My eyes found their way from Harry’s eyes to where he still held my hand.

“Um.”

“Harry…” I whispered as all thoughts seemed to disappear from my mind.

And everything else seemed to fade away as Harry and I leaned closer toward each other. We got closer and closer until finally we kissed. And nothing else mattered.

His lips tasted like the cherry popsicle he’d had.

Somehow as the summer days passed us by these past years, I’d managed to fall for Harry Potter.

- Elle.

July 19th, 1997
Dear Journal,

Things have been awkward since the kiss. I don’t know what to say to him. And he doesn’t seem to be sure either. So I’ve decided, I’m just going to tell him how I feel. The next time I see him, I’m just going to tell him.

I mean, he kissed me, so he has to feel the same way.

- Elle.

July 20th, 1997
Dear Journal,

I was wrong about Harry. I was wrong about everything.

"Harry, I need to tell you something."

"Me too,” He said quietly but he didn’t move his gaze from his feet.

"You go first then," I said smiling at him. Maybe it would be easier if he said it first.

He sighed. My stomach started twisting instantly. "Elle…I shouldn't have…It was wrong of me to…I shouldn't have kissed you. I have…I have a girlfriend."

"Oh…" I said softly because there wasn’t anything else for me to say. I was wrong about him.

"Elle, please I really am sorry-"

"Don't be stupid Harry." I muttered. And this time, it was my turn to not look at him. I couldn’t bare it. "You've got nothing to be sorry for.” And it was true. He never said anything about caring about me as more than a friend. He never said it was anything more. “That's…that's great that you have a girlfriend because…I just wanted to make sure that you…you knew that…that…kiss…didn't mean anything to me…and I didn't…I didn't want it to ruin our friendship." I said in a trembling voice. “Because…because it was just…practice…there’s this…this boy that…” I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, “There’s a boy that I care about and I’d never kissed anyone before and I didn’t…I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of him.”

“Oh…well that’s-”

"What's her name?" I interrupted, trying to keep my voice light.

"Elle-"

"I wanna know…we're best friends, right?" I wrapped my arms around to keep warm in the cold summer breeze. "We tell each other everything…What's her name?"

"Ginny."

"That's um Ron’s sister, right?"

Harry nodded.

I should’ve known. God, I’m so stupid. I should’ve seen it, especially when he wrote me about Ginny and Dean. Everything I’d wanted seemed so close a few days ago but now, I know it’s an impossibility.

- Elle.

July 25th, 1997
Dear Journal,

Harry said goodbye tonight.

"Elle, I'm leaving."

"What do you mean?" We hadn’t spoken much since the other day.

"Soon. Er-…I don't know when…but there's something going on…and once I…once I turn seventeen, I can't stay on Privet Drive…I can't come back…not for a while. But I will…I promise."

"Why?"

"It's complicated."

"I’m sick that excuse Harry! Are my best friend or not? Why won't you tell me the truth? I know you've been keeping whatever it is a secret from me for years."

"You won't understand-"

"I understand that you can't trust me. I thought for the past few years…we've been best friends…but I guess I was wrong. You don't trust me."

"Elle-"

"Don't call me that." I snapped. "Why don't you just…go…go…tell all your little secrets to Ginny…you probably trust her…"

"She…she…" Harry struggled to articulate.

"She already knows." I assumed.

"Yes." He confirmed.

"So you have to leave…although you won't tell me why…I know that you won't come back to Privet Drive to visit your aunt and uncle, you hate them. You don't have a reason to come back."

"You're my reason."

"That's not a good reason." I scoffed.

"Elle…"

"Harry…don't do this…don't lie to me anymore…" My voice trembled. "You have another life at school. And these past few summers, they've been great…but they've just been one small part of your life…one that couldn't have brought you much happiness. You met a nice girl at your school. You have a horrible family here. You've probably got an amazing surrogate family there. You've got nothing here."

"I've got you here."

"No you don't.”

"Elle-"

"Don't call me that!" I screamed. "You have nothing here!" I repeated, throwing my hands in the air. "All you've got is…crazy relatives…a bully for a cousin and his idiotic friends…and you've got some insignificant next door neighbor who was an idiot herself for…for ever thinking that kiss-…You've got a stupid girl living next door who...who really really cared about you. And all she got in return was lies. There’s more to your story then what you’ve told me. I know it. You say you'll come back…but I don't want you to…I don't want to care about you anymore…I can't…I can't handle it. I can't take lovin- I know you’ll only ever see me as your neighbor.

"Elle, what are you talking about?" He pleaded with me.

God, he was dense. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t tell how much I cared/

"I…I care about you, I don’t know how you could ever think otherwise. I’ve told you all I can without risking you…running away in terror. The things that are going on in my life…they're dangerous…and Voldemort and his followers…they'll hurt anyone who means anything to me. They’ve killed so many already. Ginny can protect herself, though, but I still have to hurt her because I’m going to break up with her. And then there's you…these past summers…I couldn't…I couldn't let myself get closer to you than friends because they'd come after you…and now he knows about you. You can't protect yourself against them…and I can't be here to protect you.”

“You don’t have to protect me.”

“You don’t understand!”

“Does it matter?” I asked. “Whether or not I understand, you’ve leaving either way. It doesn’t matter if I understand or if Voldemort knows about me. You’re leaving Harry. Nothing’s changing that. So just say goodbye already.”

“Elle, please. I’ll come back.”

“No, you won’t. If you lose, you’ll be dead and then well…you for sure can’t come back here. And if you win…there’s nothing here for you.”

“Elle-”

“Who knows how long it will be. Who knows if I’ll still be here. Who knows if I’ll remember you at all. Maybe I’ll just remember you as the boy who lived next door to me. Nothing more. Though I guess that’s all we’ve ever been. Just neighbors.”

“Elle,” his eyebrows were furrowed as if he was deep in thought. “I hurt you.” He said it, as if it was the biggest newsflash.

“No, Harry,” I said, fighting to keep my voice from cracking, “For you to hurt me, I’d have to care about you.”

I walked away from Harry today, without a goodbye. And I know, in the pit of my stomach, I’ll never see him again.

- Elle.