dazzed

First Sight

 Harry opened his eyes and felt the bumps of the Hogwarts Express that are so familiar to him. He slid up and looked around to see that Hermione was the only one in the compartment with him. 

"How long was I out?"

"About an hour, we'll be there shortly," she responded while reading the Daily Prophet with intense concentration.

"Bloody hell Hermione, if you look at that paper any harder it might explode." a voice taunted from the door frame of the compartment. Ron sat down next to Harry. 

"Went to find Neville," Ron explained when he saw the question rising in Harry's eyes, "He wanted me to tell him how the prefects meeting went."

As Harry nodded in acknowledgment, he noticed the way Hermione was looking at Ron. The same way Cho looked at Cedric last year. He noticed the glances between Cedric and Cho more then anyone else. Guilt flowed over Harry every time he thought of Cedric. Especially the fact that Harry had feelings for Cho, Cedric's girlfriend at the time of his death. His death that Harry blames himself for. His death that he knows everyone blames him for. Harry had been thinking constantly of how he could have protected Cedric that awful night in the graveyard. He frequently beat himself up over the fact that, although Cedric had died, he was so glad that Cho was single. A horrible thought, yet never out of his mind. Tingles ran down Harry's neck just thinking of Cho. Her long black hair, her perfect bangs, the sound of her voice that resinated in him all summer. He was glad to be back at Hogwarts so he could be with her constantly.

As Harry fantisized about the coming year with Cho, he saw a swift flash of long blonde hair, that was slightly more tamed then Hermione's bushy locks, fly past the compartment they were all sitting in . It took a couple of seconds for the place they sat to be filled with the sent of berrys and vanilla, like a pastry bought at Madam Puddifoot's. Harry seemed to be the only one out of the three who noticed the captivating sent. 

"What 're you doin'" Ron's voice echoed in Harry's ears. Harry snapped back to reality and realised he was standing, looking out into the hallway of the train, trying to discover who the mesmerizing girl's identity was. All thoughts of Cho were long gone.

"Just... Did you guys smell that?" he asked his friends. Ron shook his head and Hermione looked up for a second then looked back down at The Prophet. Her lack of words told Harry that neither of them caught the smell. "I need to... go to the bathroom."

"Alright mate" Ron said, not giving Harry much attention.

"Hold on Harry," Hermione caught Harry's arm, stoping him from leaving, "Look what the Prophet is saying about Dumbledore." Seeing the look of concern on Hermione's face, Harry could guess exactly what the paper said about the man Harry looked up to more then anyone else.

"Honestly Hermione, I really don't care what the Prophet says." he said without much care if he was hurting her feelings. He told the truth, "I think I have a pretty good guess at what it says." 

"It's all a load of rubbish anyway." Ron backed him up. "Dad says that the ministry is making up stories to give Dumbledore a bad look."

Hermione stayed quiet and looked at Ron again but this time with a twing of anger. Harry backed slowly out of the compartment, concerned that the conversation hadn't ended. When he got out he looked the way the girl had ran. All he saw was strikingly red hair, Ginny. He headed in her direction, planning on asking her if she had noticed anyone that pertained to the definition of the girl. However, coming closer to her he realized she wasn't alone. Michael Corner was standing awfully close to Ron's sister. They were snogging passionately in the middle of the hallway. Harry thought that if he wasn't so focused on the girl who was now taking over his mind, he would have gone back and told Ron. Instead, he kept going, past Ginny, into the next section of he train, a more open section.  

"Heya Harry" Neville waved at him. Harry quickly waved back.

Although Harry got one friendly greeting, the looks and whispers when he arrived were far from welcoming. Seamus Finnagin sat next to Neville, looking at Harry with the most intense hatred. Normally, this would have rattled Harry, but not today, not now. His mind and eyes were set on one thing at the far end of the section of the train. Long, tangled, blonde hair.