breathe me | h. potter

breathe me

"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares."
Henri J.M. Nouwen

breathe me.

Harry sat down in Hermione's usual table in the library, she was still immensely upset with Ron over the Yule ball, and the only place he could find her was in the library, surrounded by books. So when he sat, he pushed a stack of books from him and a sheet of parchment atop those books, catching an ink bottle before it rolled off the table. He cleared his throat, that was what often caught Hermione's attention. He waited for a moment, but no bushy hair popped above the page, the girl didn't stir her eyes from the pages of the paper. "Hermione."

A head finally poked from amongst the large book slim fingers were carrying, but the hair was not bushy, and the eyes were not small, they were wide, like a fish out of water. She squealed upon what he assumed her seeing him sitting next to her.

"Hermione left a few minutes ago."

Her voice was soft, but scratchy, like she hadn't spoken in days. And maybe she hadn't, maybe she had been stuck in the confines of the library for days on end, an empty water bottle was crooked between pages of work, and a few candy wrappers were haphazardly scattered around, ink splattered amongst many pages of her parchment.

"Do you happen to know where I could find her?" Harry was worried to say a name, and his fear was obvious to her. It wasn't odd to see Harry uncomfortable, from her seat at the Ravenclaw table, she saw many of his worst days.

She shook her head and Harry let out a heavy sigh,"I'm sorry, but what's your name? I can't quite spot it in my head."

She closed the book between her fingers, a bad habit, especially when she was reading a large book-very often. "Evelyn Waverly," She let out a cough, that she projected into her elbow,"Ravenclaw, your year." Her voice came out more confident once she had cleared her throat.

Harry gave her a tight lipped smile and moved to get up. Evelyn reached for a book at the other end of the table, pushing herself up in her chair, and catching it by her fingertips. She held it out to Harry by the time he stood up. "You can stay, if you want. I know how much you like quidditch, this has got some of the best techniques for seekers." She pushed up her thin rimmed glasses-even behind the glasses, her eyes were huge.

Harry's face reddened, and he felt slightly embarrassed he had gotten up so quick into their conversation. He sat back down in his seat and took the book from her,"I don't want to bother you."

Evelyn's face lit up once he opened the book to the first page,"My favorite is the brass branch." She opened her book up quickly, and unconsciously pushed her glasses up again. Harry grinned slightly at her, she had read the book, even if she didn't play quidditch.

So there they sat, Evelyn frequently writing notes down while she was reading her book, and Harry looking up every time and grinning. Every once in a while they'd catch eyes, and Evelyn's face would turn many shades of red, until she was stuck in her book again. About halfway through their book session, Evelyn's hand snuck into a pocket on her bag, and out came many different types of candies. "Don't tell Madame Pince, Harry Potter."

"No problem, Evelyn Waverly."

a/n:

words:584

wow they are so cute, i will often write this one because for right now it's cute and small (at least for a little while). I hope you like Evelyn so far, she's so fun to write, and I don't normally write such soft characters like this, so it's different as well.

i do not own harry potter, the above quotation, or breath me.