40 Days

November 18, 1997

I woke up to the sound of him puttering around the tent, and I watched him without moving. Harry had always been thin, and I thought it was mainly due to him being so active. He was always out riding his broom in his free time, or doing quidditch.

It had made sense to me that he was so thin due to his athleticism, because even despite his thinness he had been strong, strong enough to face Voldemort even as an eleven-year-old boy.

The thought kept circling my head. They kept him in a cupboard. I pictured a little five-year-old Harry in a small dark cupboard, lonely and needing someone to love him. My heart twisted.

What else had they done to him? How had he managed to grow up to be so caring despite that kind of abuse?

I sat up slowly, and he looked over at me with a smile. "Morning, sleepyhead."

"Good morning."

"Your breakfast is on the table." He gestured to where a plate sat with a stasis charm, keeping it warm.

I made my way over there with my wand, casting cleaning charms on myself and my teeth before sitting down and dispelling the stasis charm. I could feel him watching me as I ate and my fork seemed to make too much noise against the plate as I ate. It was hard to force myself to finish.

I wanted to know more about his childhood, something I realized that I didn't know much about. I remember in second year Ron having some crazy story about breaking him out of a barred window, but Ron was from the wizarding world. I had assumed it was some normal type of security that Ron just hadn't recognized. Had he really been barred in? Like a jail cell?

Harry had transfigured the bed into a small couch and his attention had shifted from me to the Marauders map lying in his lap. "Are you watching Ginny?"

I knew he broke up with her because of Voldemort, and not any other reason. He probably still missed her. He looked up at me, patting the side of the couch where there was just enough room for me to squeeze in close next to him. "Mhmm. I was wondering if Ron would show up on it, actually."

"That would be dumb, he wouldn't-" I cut myself off as Harry gave me a skeptical glance and then went back to observing the map. He shifted and his side pressed closer to mine and his hand came down on my thigh.

I shifted, pulling my legs up to my chest, trying to dislodge his hand without making a big deal of it, but he merely tightened his grip on my thigh and his hand was pinned even more intimately against me, as if I was trying to keep it there.

I could feel my breaths speeding up a little as I tried to stay relaxed. He's my best friend. He's Harry. He's Harry.

He didn't look at me, almost hyperventilating next to him because his hand was inches away from between my legs and I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to verbalize how I felt.

Intimidated. Scared. And..

Aroused.

Even thinking the word made my face feel like it was burning. I couldn't take my eyes off him as he nonchalantly scanned the map, his hand on my upper thigh, inches away from between my legs.

Several black locks had fallen forward, framing his face, the lanterns reflected on his glasses, obscuring his eyes. Harry was handsome and lithe, like one of those actors from period pieces my mother used to watch.

"You know, Ginny tried to sleep with me."

"What!" my voice squeaked out, unnaturally high.

"When I broke up with her, I told her it was because of Voldemort and she wanted to give me something to remember her by."