Foresaken (Old, being rewrote)

Not so Confident, Now?

Blinking himself awake, he yawned and pushed himself upright. The room was a pitch black, he could hear the snores of his fellow dorm mates and felt Kiwi curled near his side. Tiredly, he ran his fingers back through his hair and wondered for exactly how long he'd been asleep, he clearly missed the Slugclub meeting but he couldn't bring himself to regret that. Harry would think Tiernan or Orion would have lightly explained he was exhausted and basically ran out of steam to function on. Groaning quietly he rubbed his eyes and contemplated just going back to sleep. Tugging his wand from his pocket, he casted a quick and quiet 'tempus'. The small illuminating light showed the time; 4:49AM. Harry quickly put the light out and leaned carefully back on his bed, trying not to lay on top of Kiwi.

Harry quietly thought there was no reason to go back to sleep, he basically had two hours until Orion or Tiernan would wake him up and going back to sleep for two hours would just make him tired. Staring up at the darkness, Harry pondered over just getting up and sitting in the common room or something. It certainly wouldn't hurt, and it would beat sitting alone in the dark. Propping himself up again, he heard Kiwi hiss in displeasure but he stilled and the sound disappeared quickly. Harry quietly opened his curtain and turned to where his feet were touching the ground. The cold practically zapped him, but he ignored it with a frown. He remembered going to sleep last night with shoes on, shaking his head he figured Tiernan probably checked on him and thought he was doing him a favor or something.

Lazily he wondered if he really needed to find his shoes, he was just going to the common room. After a moment of pondering he decided he didn't need shoes and stood up from his bed, he pulled the curtains shut again and tip toes his way to the door. Touching his hand against the door he felt his way along the door and wall where he found the door knob, lips twitching he quietly pulled the door open and stepped out into the hall. It was colder and the cold slapped him in the face, he paused and wondered if he should really go to the common room.

"Shut the fucking door, Malfoy," groaned Avery. Harry walked out and shut the door, amused slightly but more irritated he was thought to be Malfoy. Harry was in no shape or form like Malfoy, or he hoped he wasn't as if he was he'd be impossible to be around. Walking down the hall, he traced his fingers along the stone walls as he went he came to the stairs and looked down into the common room. It was empty, and just as he wanted the fire was blazing. A small sigh of relief left him as he walked his way down the stairs and gravitated to the light of the fire like a moth to a flame. Harry sat in the chair closest to the fire and stuck his feet close to the fire, idly he wondered how dirty his socks would be after treading out here. Closing his eyes he let his thought drift as he wondered over yesterday. Dumbledore wasn't going to be fun to deal with. Not fun at all, in fact. Harry mused over if he was required to go to his office at 2 or not. Dumbledore didn't explicitly say it was a detention or that he was absolutely held to the time without a semblance of choice. Withdrawing his feet from near the fire he was curious.

Harry was extremely curious and intrigued and exactly Dumbledore wanted to do to him. Not being a masochist or a sadist, he still wasn't appealed to the idea of going but he was certainly interested in the endless possibilities that could occur. Harry was near certain Dumbledore was probably just going to try to talk him down, try to shift the blame more to Harry via gas lighting tactics. It would be boring if that was to happen, but what if he decided to do something... something extreme to him? If he did, Harry could say with certainty he would survive it. Even if Harry did know exactly why Dumbledore was so hell bent on making him either miserable or trust him, Harry wouldn't still know what the extreme option could be. As that was the realm of endless possibilities. Dumbledore tended to go big or go home, so Harry may have a gig to dance.

Yawning quietly he opened his eyes again to watch the flame in the fire, using it as a form of entertainment he focused on how the flames licked eagerly at the wood and spun and danced. Harry wondered how flammable he was. Resting his arms on the arm rests of his chair, he drew his wand and looked it over. The wand purred at his attention, Harry could almost feel it. The wand was definitely better than his old Phoenix feather wand, and it felt oddly alive as well. It was hard to describe, with his Phoenix feather wand there were a few sparse times he felt as if the wand itself was conscious, had a mind and will of its own. With this wand, it was almost constantly writhing and purring with life and a zest to cast magic. Lovingly he ran his wand down the wand before carefully putting it in his pocket, it was just so interesting. The more he looked around, the more details he started to pay attention to the more interesting and engrossing everything became.