The Sun, Moon & Stars

40. Prying

'Right, and the key steps to transfiguring inanimate objects into animals is...?' Ophelia questioned, a textbook propped up on her knees and her elbow sinking into the mattress as she continued to scribble notes down on her parchment.

Ophelia was visiting Harry in the hospital wing, as Madam Pomfrey insisted he stayed the rest of the weekend. It was just the two of them; Hermione finally dragged herself away from his bedside to finish an essay, and Ron was taking a visit with Hagrid since Ophelia and Harry were once again not permitted to leave the castle after the previous days events.

'I...erm...' Harry trailed off with a slight groan.

'You're not listening.' Ophelia sighed, as she closed the textbook, rolled up the parchment and shoved it all back into her book bag.

'I'm trying, I'm sorry.' Harry sighed, as he rubbed his forehead.

'I know.' She sighed, 'What's wrong?' Ophelia asked, as she sat up more straight and took a sip out of the glass of water on the table.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean what's wrong? I'm not oblivious, you're obviously thinking about other things. So, what's wrong?' She pressed.

Harry took a moment—almost as if deciding which problem to mention,

'It's just the dementors.'

'What about them?' Ophelia asked, swallowing the guilt as best she could.

'I mean...I pass out every time I get near one, I'm sure that's not normal.' Harry explained, sounding nervous.

'I mean, it could be possible they simply have stronger affects on certain people. I wouldn't think too much about it if I were you. I mean they aren't meant to be kind.' Ophelia shrugged.

Harry just nodded, but his expression told her there was more,

'That's not it, is it?'

Harry shook his head.

'You can tell me.' Ophelia reminded him kindly.

'I kind of...hear stuff, when they get close to me.' Harry tried to explain, fumbling on his words a bit.

Ophelia furrowed her brows, waiting for him to continue.

'I hear my parents... I can hear my Dad yelling and my Mum crying and begging him to spare me. I can sort of see a green flash of light, and I can hear her falling to the floor...' Harry trailed off, his expression painful. 'I can hear them dying.' He finished.

'That can't be normal.' Harry added, looking at her for clarification.

She nodded in agreement.

'I didn't think so.'

Ophelia cleared her throat, 'You know, I could always ask my Dad for you, he might know more.'

'No, it's okay. I can figure it out by myself.' Harry shook his head.

'But you don't have to figure everything out by-'

'I'm fine, I promise. Okay?' Harry cut her off, pleading—as usual liking to do things by himself when he doesn't have to.

She sighed in defeat, 'Alright.' And then she bit her lip, stopping herself from rambling on again.

'What else?' Harry sighed, noticing her uneasiness.